His Girl Friday
by Mistiec
Summary: So 'Happily Ever After’ didn’t last forever, and now Cordelia’s ready to move past the mission, and on with her life, without Angel Investigations. Intent is always easier than execution, especially when Angel and company, aren't ready to let her go
1. Chapter One

**Title: His Girl Friday**   
**Author: Misty Flores**   
With special contribution by Ness   
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com   
Teaser: So 'Happily Ever After' didn't last forever, and now Cordelia's ready to move past the mission, and on with her life, without Angel Investigations. Course, intent is always easier than execution, especially when Angel and company, aren't ready to let her go.   
Genre: Angel/Cordelia, Cordelia/Other - Comedy   
Rating: R for language, some sexual situations.   
Spoilers: Tomorrow. Speculation for Season Four.   
Notes: Remake based on the forties screwball classic 'His Girl Friday'. AU, Futuristic - and damned wacky. 

More notes- The majority of Chapter Three was written by Ness (www.stoic-simplicity.net/anr). 'Cause she rocks. 

As always- three chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm.   
-- 

**Chapter One**

_I didn't ask for this responsibility, unlike some people, who shall remain lifeless! I don't have anything to atone for. If they know what's good for them, the PTB better just stay out of my head._   
Cordelia - Parting Gifts 

-- 

Evil never really took a vacation, did it? 

The hotel was virtually unchanged. Cracks in the sidewalk revealed little dandelions, weeds, but she had always liked them, poking out from the cement, adding some color to the drab gray. Bushes that she had once trimmed herself, were now wild, spilling over from their potted soil, tangling with the vines over the stones. It was her Hyperion, but chaotic, new. And still very much in business, if the yellowed sign that read 'Angel Investigations' was any indication. As she stood, she wondered if she had ever seen it this way, if the tug in her heart at the view of her old domicile would ever really go away. 

With a deep breath in, Cordelia Chase took a step forward, straightening away from the car and slamming the door behind her. 

She felt the brush of soft lips on her shoulder, moist breath skimming the area, and it made her smile, turn, heart skipping at the man behind her. 

"I'll be just a minute," she said. "You don't have to come in." 

"Hey, just a minute is a long time to be away from you." 

The words should have sounded cheesy, and hell, they almost were, but Cordelia still froze, ever so slightly, hardened hazel eyes softened and she turned back to study him. Douglas Sanderson, with all his solid six foot, 2 inch frame, still grinned like a lost little school boy when she looked at him. A soft, rosy blush drifted to the top of his cheeks, spreading to his ears, and in his eyes was a bright song. It made her smile. There was an innocence there she had lost a long time ago, in her quest to become a warrior for the Powers That Be. 

"Say that again," she whispered. 

"Huh?" 

"Say it again." 

His blush became rosier, as his feet shifted, and he shrugged. "I just said, ya know... that... a minute is a long time to be away from you. That's... all." 

Cordelia couldn't help the slightly giddy sensation as she took a breath, leaning forward and sliding a manicured, unbroken nail (the first time in months) over his chest. "I heard you, Dork-o," she said. "I just wanted to hear it again." 

A soft brush of her lips against his was all it took to gather her resolve, remind herself why she was doing this, why it needed to be done. It made things easier, somehow. Her purpose made her smile fade. Noticing, he squeezed her hand. "You sure you don't want me to go in there with you?" 

His worry was evident, but Cordelia (no longer Cordy - that had stopped as soon as she left. She didn't want reminders, none at all) didn't hesitate. She could handle him. She had, for most of her teenage/adult life. 

"You can wait in the lobby, okay?" He looked scared, and Cordelia didn't blame him. One of the things that was so utterly refreshing about Douglas was his previous complete ignorance to the existence of vampires, demons and other other-wordly creatures. It had taken a vision to find him, and even now, she caught the view of wonder he sometimes gave her, the "I can't believe the girl I'm with is a demon' look. "It's just a talk," she assured him. "I can handle Mr. Broody." 

"I'd like to give him something to handle," he grumbled, but obediently followed, hand possessively tucked in hers as they moved through the vines, into the courtyard of the Hyperion. 

God, it had been so long. 

Pushing open the Hyperion Lobby doors: she had done that millions of times, and she had never forgotten how it creaked in that one spot, how the heavy wood felt against her palm, the extra push it needed when it got stuck in the lock. 

It was like nothing had changed, when she stepped inside, with that confident walk of ownership. And just like she remembered, the Hyperion Lobby was busy - busy as it had been, since Angel had regained his mission, embraced it when everything in his life suddenly fell into place, after they had all gone through utter hell to claim it - or in her case: heaven. Literally. 

A brunette, sweaty in spandex, barreled past her. Cordelia gave out a surprised shriek (Higher Being or no, she still was not a fan of becoming human roadkill), and jumped back instinctively, into Douglas' waiting arms. 

The figure gracefully twisted, and suddenly stopped, wiping a wild bang from her eyes and taking a breath. "Cordelia?" the woman questioned, giving the former Seer a look, blinking slightly. "Shit. What the fuck are you doing here?" 

Douglas' mouth dropped open slightly. 

"Hey, Faith," Cordelia responded, nonchalant at the rather crude greeting. The Slayer was breathing heavily, leaning over, catching her breath. The dark eyes that never missed a gesture gazed up at her now. She looked like she belonged in the Hyperion, and that was new. 

Cordelia remembered watching the Slayer's first tentative steps in the Hotel, and now, SHE felt like the intruder. Again, something twisted inside her. "Nice to see you, too." 

"Never said I was happy to see you," Faith shot back. Cordelia's smile froze, but she gave a short nod. Touché. 

Faith smirked, indicating she understood. 

Their gazes locked, and there was a moment of pure silence. Neither looked away, and it was Douglas, who pulled at Cordelia's arm, that broke the nonverbal battle. Distracted, Cordelia's eyes roved over the Hyperion, the clusters of people, and a familiar thin girl, a bald black man, among them. Her mouth twitched, a thump in her heart pounding in recognition. "You look busy." 

Faith turned back, and then shrugged in disinterest. "Regular end of the world crap. Nothing we can't handle." 

She might as well have finished with 'that doesn't include YOU.' Faith was never one to be subtle. Cordelia let the bittersweet pang hit her, but she gave a short nod. "Right." 

Faith stood, shifting easily on her balls of her feet, eyes moving from Cordelia to her clasped hands with Douglas. "Who's that?" 

The angered tone was what Cordelia expected, and she stood a little taller, gathering her strength. It was time, then. Make sure her family understood. Set her boundaries. Remind them of the promise she had made. Of the hell she had endured. In the end, her explanation only took one word, two syllables. "Douglas." 

The Slayer's gaze lingered on the tangled fingers, quiet for a moment. Running her own digits through her long tresses, the former jailbird bluntly asked, "Angel know you're coming?" 

"Thought I'd surprise him," Cordelia said, moving around her. 

Faith snorted. "Right - cause he loves that shit. Cor, he's not exactly in a mood for-" 

"Here," Cordelia pushed Douglas down on the orange sofa, ignoring Faith as she came up behind her. The Slayer was still staring at Douglas, being blatantly rude and not caring one damned bit. Douglas stared right back, eyes round in astonishment. 

"She's the one that was in jail for murder, right?" he whispered. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "WAS," she enunciated. "As in past tense. She's good now - sorta." 

"Cordelia?!" The squeal behind her was quickly followed by a hug that almost plowed the Seer into the couch, but she caught herself, as she immediately recognized the voice, even before the taco smell hit her. 

"Hey, Fred." Winnifred Burkle was as beautiful as she had ever seen her, glasses wire framed and falling down her nose, hair in curls, drifting over her waif thin shoulders. The girl was so excited she was practically hyperventilating. 

"You're BACK! I knew you'd come back! I told Gunn an' I told Angel that you'd be back, no worries! And Faith wouldn't believe me, but Ah said that-" 

"FRED!" Cordelia held her grip on her shoulders firm, slightly winded from Fred's tirade. Boy - you never got used to that. "I'm not back, okay I am, but... not really." 

The look she got in return was a blank stare. "But... what do you mean? You always said that-" 

"Fred, shut it." Faith interrupted, arms crossed. Fred gave her a curious glance, and Slayer Girl jerked her head in Douglas' direction. "She brought him with her." Cordelia couldn't help but notice the rather disgusted annotation of the word 'him'. 

For the first time, Fred seemed to see Douglas. The mousy young woman gaped, Douglas shifted, stared at Cordy helplessly, while Fred glanced nervously at the closed office door. "Does Angel know?" 

Cordelia suppressed the urge to groan, and forced a smile at her former co-worker. "Not yet. But he will. He's in, right?" 

"Well, he's kinda... busy, Cordelia..." Fred managed a weary smile, arms moving emphatically. "What with... you know... the trial and all..." 

"He's not taking visitors." That one came from Charles Gunn, a grim line set on the face she hadn't seen in months, as he jerked his head up from his clients, leaning against the counter. He saw Cordelia then, and he froze slightly. Cordelia gave him a slight wave. He nodded warily back, unsure and curious, but in pure 'Gunn' resolve, not asking any questions, save one, when his eyes lingered on Douglas. "Angel know?" 

"Oh, Good GOD," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "In his office?" 

The three members of Angel Investigations continued to stare. 

Leaving Douglas behind with Faith, Fred and Gunn was something akin to leaving a deer in the midst of lions, but Cordelia couldn't worry about that now. Douglas was going to have to stand on his own feet, and by GOD, he had it easy. He wasn't going to face a broody vampire with a soul. 

"I'll be back." 

"Cordelia, if things get rough, know that I'm here." 

At the comment, Faith snorted down the laughter, Fred blinked, and Charles grinned. 

"Shut up," she said sharply. "All of you." Turning to Douglas, she gave him a wave. "I'll be fine, thanks." 

Cordelia took a breath and marched away from them, pushing through a couple squabbling about something in a demonic language, and nearly floating over a foosball table (that HAD to be Connor's), with square set shoulders. 

Shoulders of resolve. Of anger. Of determination. 

Flinging open the office door, she found a vampire hunched over a large book, a dark expression clouding his angelic face. 

"Fred, I'm busy." 

Cordelia couldn't help but smile. Yeah. Mr. Broody, all right. "Your ex-wife is here," she said flatly. "Want to see her?" 

The vampire still had the deepest eyes she had ever seen, and once again, she felt the flush that came over when they settled intensely on hers. Dark, focused, narrowed - telling of a passionate nature, a dangerous past. 

"Cordy." 

"Angel." 

"Cordy." 

His look of stunned astonishment almost amused her. She found her strength, moving into the office and closing it the door behind her. Angel continued to stare, eyes pinned on her as if afraid to look away, and she felt slightly embarrassed by it. Swallowing down, she managed a smile, staring right back at the facet of her past that had at one point been all that mattered. 

Years of friendship, of love, and less than a year of marriage to celebrate it. 

Angel wore a dark blue shirt, a white tank top under it. His hair was spiked in his usual way, and he hadn't changed at all. Her eyes drifted down to his left hand, third finger. A gold band still clasped around it. 

"You shouldn't be wearing that." 

The words broke him of his frozen shock, as he glanced down at the ring, then back up at her. "You weren't supposed to be here to see it." 

She cocked an eyebrow. "But I am." 

Angel was quiet, moving around the desk to lean against it. "Cordelia-" 

A shift in the air, and a burst through the door announced Connor. The young man was taller than before, more filled out, and for a moment, Cordelia just stared. 

"Hey, Dad-" 

"Not now, Connor..." 

The young man's steps faltered, a stillness on his face now prevalent as he stared at Cordelia. "What's she doing back?" 

"Hey, Connor," Cordelia said quietly, crossing her arms, eyes drinking in the sight of the angry young boy who now called his father 'Dad', and meant it. 

He balled fists into his pockets, eyes burning into her hazel. "You came back?" 

Cordelia licked her lips, began to answer, when Angel stepped around her. "Not now, Connor." 

"But Dad-" 

"Connor-" 

"Look, I'm just telling you that Wolfram and Hart is withdrawing their representation." 

Cordelia cocked her brow, but said nothing, leaning against the desk as Angel immediately turned. "What?" 

"That's what Lorne said." 

"They can't cut out now," Angel muttered, eyes closing. "She'll be dead by the end of the day." 

"But I thought we were trying to get them to stop," Connor protested, clearly confused. "You said that the evil Lawyers-" 

"Quiet, Connor, he's thinking," Cordelia interjected, body casual as she read the obvious signs of her ex-husband/vampire in full on brood mode. Questions flitted through her, but she forced them down. It wasn't her mission. Not her apocalypse. Not anymore. Still, she wondered who on earth they were talking about, why Wolfram and Hart were defending her, and why Angel seemed to think them cutting out was a BAD thing. 

Angel whirled, and Connor straightened. "Tell Lorne to tell Wolfram and Hart that if they back Bethany, or at least stall the sentence, we'll give them full access to the scrolls for one week." 

Cordelia's eyebrow arched at the judgment call. Connor's jaw dropped. "But... you can't do that!" 

"Connor-" 

"We're working FOR the Powers, not against them!" 

"So, when Bethany's free, we'll work FOR them again," Angel said, turning back to the desk. "We'll do whatever it takes." 

Cordelia kept her arms crossed, glancing back at Connor, curious now that she was only a spectator. 

Connor looked frustrated, close to the young feral man he used to be, and he whirled, slamming open the door and making the frame rattle when he shut it behind him. 

"That's my honey," she quipped in the silence. "All about the mission until it intrudes on his personal love life." 

He didn't appreciate that comment, she could see. But the vampire still resided deep within the man she'd married, because a smirk of humor flitted across the lips, and he gave her another searching glance. 

"It's not the first time I've double-crossed Wolfram and Hart," he remarked, suddenly all business, now that he had his mission to worry about, "Now what can I do for you?" 

The impersonal tone was just fine with her, 'just business' was a hell of a lot easier than 'Blow Up Fight Number Fifty Million and Two'. "Mind if I sit down?" 

There was a quiet silence, until a slow, dangerous smile flitted on Angel's face, reminiscent of a boy accosting a tavern wench. "Sure, Cordy," he said dryly, and patted his thighs. "This one's padded." 

The snerk that came out of her was almost funny, as she rolled her eyes, turning away from his obvious request for a lap dance. "No thanks. I stopped using THAT seat a long time ago." Moving around him, she settled for pushing up onto his desk, crossing her legs, and in a burst of instinct, reaching around his books, for the bottle of brandy she knew he kept there. 

A creature of habit, this one was. Taking a sip to calm her shuddering nerves, Cordelia took a breath, and immediately handed the bottle down to him. 

He took it without a word, studying her with those damned vampire eyes. God, she missed unsure Broody Boy. Somewhere between the time she fell in love with him and the time she got his soul bound, he'd become way too confident for his own good. 

And, a master of observation, he knew how that confidence turned her on. 

"How long has it been, Cordy?" he asked, finally breaking the silence. His voice was deep, dark, edged in wonder. 

"Since what?" she asked, taking the bottle back and tipping it against her lips, letting the liquor slide over her tongue, dulling her senses. She felt his eyes on her mouth, and closed hers against the dark gaze. 

"Since we've seen each other." 

"Four months, I think," Cordelia responded, blinking against the bitterness of the alcohol, giving it back. She let a slow smile of nostalgia come over her, demon senses flaring slightly as she breathed in, took in the familiar smell of Angel Investigations, the familiar scent of Angel. Funny, how just yesterday she was wondering if she could actually do this, sit here and not feel the bitterness. 

Sure, it was here, but not nearly as much as she expected. Instead, she fought the urge to smile as she gazed over the office, and remembered. When the desk was Wesley's, when it became Angel's again, of a time when they made love on it - trying desperately to be quiet because of the others in the next room, and failing miserably when she fell OFF of it. 

"Feels like yesterday," she mused out loud. 

She heard a dry chuckle, broken out of her reverie when Angel shifted in his chair. She flushed, knowing he had a very innate sense of smell, and she crossed her legs. Bastard. 

"Maybe it was, Cordelia," he cracked. "Maybe a dream or two last night?" 

"Sweetie, I stopped dreaming of you months ago," she remarked, the game of cat and mouse suddenly back into play. God, this was ... surreal. She and Angel civil, sad... not bitter... somewhat bitter, but... resigned. 

So, it hadn't worked out. Things happened. It was for the better this way. Her eyes lingered on his left hand, third finger when he shoved himself out of his chair. 

"Please, Cordy," he remarked, turning toward her. "I know you." 

"So you said," she said, cocking her head slightly. His gaze was almost annoying, the way he still seemed to see through her. "You don't know me, anymore, Angel." 

"I'd know you anywhere, Cordelia." 

It was a statement, not open to discussion, but all it got was a dry laugh, from Cordelia. "Right. I seem to recall a proposal that started out that way-" 

"You remember." 

"Course, I do," she remarked, suddenly wishing for a cigarette, which really came out of nowhere. She didn't smoke. A lot. "It's one of the reasons I divorced you." 

There was an almost wince, and she was grateful. At least she got SOMETHING out of him that wasn't cool and calm and disconcerting. "Why'd you do that?" he asked intensely. 

"Do what?" 

"Divorce me." 

She blinked. "What?" 

"It didn't mean anything." 

Damn if the vampire didn't manage to make her go all monosyllabic. "Huh?" Recrossing her legs for better circulation, Cordelia cocked her head. "I was there, Angel. It meant a whole lot." 

"Cordelia, divorce means nothing to us. Marriage meant nothing. We have a bond," he came forward, hands on her thighs, burning cold into her skin. "You know that. The Powers knew it. It can't be broken." 

Cordelia sighed, resignation filling her as she carefully pushed her ex-husband away. "Yeah, Angel. You're right." 

"Damned right." 

"I love you." 

"Damned right." 

"And sometimes I even wish you weren't such a bastard." He froze, gave her a glare, and turned away. The anger that had been building flared now, Cordelia's own heart jumped a beat, and she crossed her arms, sending hazel bursts of ice into his back. "Why the hell did you promise not the fight the divorce and then do EVERYTHING to try to keep it from happening?" 

He sighed, shaking his head, almost like a dog trying to get rid of too much water in its coat. He almost looked ashamed. Almost. "I tried, Cordelia. You know, I tried to let you go. I did. You were better off without me, and I knew it, but... I couldn't do it. I couldn't let you leave me..." 

"Oh, right, and hiring an airplane to write in the sky 'Cordy, don't do it, remember my manly boob muscles' really made me think," she snapped sarcastically. "It held up the damned legal proceedings twenty minutes while the judge went out to watch it." 

He grinned, a devilish 'Angelus' grin. "Don't mean to brag, baby, but I still got those muscles." 

"Oh, please." 

"Oh, come on, Cor. I just didn't want to have you leave me. I didn't want to break up our happy home." 

She 'pffted' him. "Happy?" 

"We were happy, Cordy." 

"You mean, in between all the missions and the bloodshed, and the carnage? Does our honeymoon ring a bell?" 

"Hey, it wasn't my fault the Powers sent you a vision-" 

"A honeymoon, that was all I wanted," Cordelia said wistfully. "A brief, small, little interlude with my vampire hubby on the beach, with no visions, no cave-ins... instead? I spend the weekend picking fish guts from my bikini while you go Jonah on me. Do you know how long it took me to get that damned fish belly smell from your shirt?" 

"Cordelia, it was the mission. It's still the mission, and I remember when it was the most important thing to you-" 

"Well, the mission can go screw itself, because I'm tired of being the walking Seer doormat-" Cordelia found her words dangerously close to screeching, and she forced herself to stop. Taking in a breath, she placed two fingers on the bridge of her nose, and counted to five. "Okay," she said, opening her eyes, "Look, Angel... all I came here to say, was stop stalking me. You can't call me ten times a day. That's what restraining orders work to PREVENT-" 

"Hey, but aren't you proud I learned how to use that voicemail?" he grinned. "Took me a long time, but I learned. For you." 

"Angel-" 

"And you gotta admit, my singing's improved. Lorne's even thinking about-" 

"Angel, SHUT UP! GOD! Remember when you used to be broody and stoic and all silent? How about we regress?!" 

Angel grinned, and she groaned, falling against the desk when he patted her shoulders. "Cor, it's okay." 

"It's not okay, Stalker Psychotic Vamp-" 

"Cordelia, it's going to be okay. Look, just come back to work, and if things work out, we'll get married again." 

Oh, she HAD to be in the Twilight Zone. "You're certifiable." Sighing in exasperation, Cordelia turned back to her best friend and closed her eyes, praying for patience. "Look, sweetie, you're a wonderful, wonderful man, in a crazy, psychotic kind of way, now will you SHUT UP so I can tell you what I came here to say?" 

"Cordy-" 

"I wasted enough time already-" 

"Cordelia-" 

"WILL YOU STOP with the naughty touching?!" Smacking at his roving hands, Cordelia moved around the vampire, putting the desk between them. "ASS WIPE!" 

"Cordelia, watch your temper. You know how you get when you start glowing." 

Dammit, she really WAS glowing. Closing her eyes, she took another breath, bringing down the light beginning to radiate from her fingertips. She hated him, but she really didn't want to fry him. Not yet. 

"Angel," she began heavily. "You are NOT my husband, and you are NOT my boss. And you're not going to be, anymore." 

Angel blinked, and by God, the stupid ego-ridden vamp actually looked surprised. "You're not coming back to work? But Cordy, all you cared about was the mission." 

"I don't care about the mission anymore, Angel. The mission is going to have to get along without me. And so will you." 

"The mission was just fine with you until we got married!" He looked almost like a little boy when he pouted. GOD, she missed Mr. Brood. This was her humanizing influence? Dork. 

"What? It's MY fault now?" 

"It could have worked fine as Champion and Seer, but NO, Cordelia, you had to go and MARRY me." 

She blinked. "Oh," she said, voice deadly and carefree. "So, I suppose it was ME that proposed." 

"Well, you were the one with the smelling and the smiles and with the skirts, and the 'I know you, Angel', and the 'I'm not leaving you, Angel', for two years until I broke down!" 

She couldn't help it. The book just clipped him as he ducked. "Losing your aim, Cordelia." 

She sighed. "Angel-" 

"Sorry, sorry. Look, Cordelia. It's been a rough day, okay?" He took a breath, one she knew for a fact he didn't need, shoulders hunched and tense. 

Cordelia frowned. "What?" 

"Remember Bethany? She umm... moved things?" 

Cordelia frowned, searched her memory, and found a glimmer of recognition. "Telekinetic girl with abuse issues?" 

"Yeah. She got herself in trouble with the Powers, and now they're holding her on this trial, and Wolfram and Hart are defending her - if they win, she goes with them, they get her soul." 

"And if they lose?" 

"The Powers lock her up. In their own hell." 

Wow. Cordelia blew out her breath, arms crossed as she blinked, and then remembered she wasn't supposed to care. Taking out a compact, she began to reapply her lipstick. "So?" 

"So we have to get her out. She's got a huge role to play in the coming apocalypse if the scroll is right-" 

"Which scroll?" 

"Nyazian." 

"Of course." 

"We need a mediator for the Powers, they're holding her, and if we don't get her appealed, we could-" 

"All die? Gee, when has that not happened?" 

"Cordelia," Angel's voice was heavy. "We could really use your-" 

Her eyes jolted up, and immediately she knew what was coming. "OH, no. Angel - I'm NOT doing it. I'm not working here anymore-" She shoved the compact in her purse, fully prepared to bolt when Angel turned. 

"Cordelia, this isn't about me, it's about the mission-" 

"And I've told you before, Angel," she barked, "SCREW the mission, okay? I'm not dealing with the Powers, not after that-" 

"Cordelia, maybe this is what you need. Your faith restored. Saving a soul, and it's not for me, it's for Bethany. Saving her life." 

"Angel, you KNOW you can get her off-" 

"Well..." he frowned. "Not really, Cordelia, because, the accuser is ... Skip." 

"SKIP!? My old demon guide Skip, oh GOD..." Cordelia cringed. 

"I can't get into a room for two minutes before he starts to try and pound me-" 

"Well, you DID try to get him fired, Angel-" 

"He took you away!" 

"And what about the time after that, when you pulled off that mouth on his shoulder-" 

"He tried to take Connor-" 

"For training!" 

"See? This is why I need you, Cordelia-" 

She closed her eyes, furious at getting sucked into the 'around the rosy' conversation yet AGAIN. "Angel, I'm not going to do this again-" 

"Cordelia, the mission needs you-" 

"Will you just let say what I came here to say?" 

"You could do it, Cordelia, you could save the-" 

"ANGEL LOOK!" It was there, in his face, she had no other choice. Her left hand, third finger. "You see what that is?" she screeched desperately. "It's an engagement ring!" 

And she got him back. Broody Angel, who stared at the ring as if he had never seen such a thing before. It was new, big and shiny, and it was all he could see for that moment. Cordelia's heart was heaving in her chest, and her eyes blinked back tears at the look of pure astonishment on his face. 

His hands were slow, as he reached up to finger it. "An engagement ring," he repeated. 

She swallowed, trying to get the words out fast, pull them from her like a band-aid. "I'm getting married, Angel." 

-- 

_End Chapter_   



	2. Chapter Two

**Title: His Girl Friday**   
**Author: Misty Flores**   
With special contribution by Ness   
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com   
Teaser: So 'Happily Ever After' didn't last forever, and now Cordelia's ready to move past the mission, and on with her life, without Angel Investigations. Course, intent is always easier than execution, especially when Angel and company, aren't ready to let her go.   
Genre: Angel/Cordelia, Cordelia/Other - Comedy   
Rating: R for language, some sexual situations.   
Spoilers: Tomorrow. Speculation for Season Four.   
Notes: Remake based on the forties screwball classic 'His Girl Friday'. AU, Futuristic - and damned wacky. 

More notes- The majority of Chapter Three was written by Ness (www.stoic-simplicity.net/anr). 'Cause she rocks. 

As always- three chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm.   
--   


**CHAPTER TWO**__

_"It's the visions, you see. The visions that were meant to guide you. You could turn away from them. She doesn't have that luxury. She knows and experiences the pain in this city, and because of who she is, she feels compelled to do something about it. - It's left her little time for anything else. - You'd have known that - if you hadn't had you head firmly up your... place that isn't on top of your neck." _- Wesley, Epiphany. 

-- 

Angel was very much a vampire. 

There was a certain haunting awareness inside of him, no matter many years past, no matter how often the soul could fool so many, he never forgot that he was in fact - a vampire. 

With the knowledge and the being came certain primeval instincts. With the freedom of a bound soul came the longing to be happy, and Angel had learned the hard way, that if one was to succeed in that quest - to take what belonged to him and keep it- one needed to fight for it. 

Angel never trusted human perspective or decisions. A human, or Cordelia's case, a demon, had the uncanny ability to fool themselves - to reach deep down and deny their feelings and their needs because of their stubborn instincts. 

In his years with Angel Investigations, an agency started for the simple reason that a vampire in love wanted to forget, Angel had come to learn a vast amount about humans, about demons, about the mission in general. 

It was this woman in front of him who had taught him that his mission was all that mattered. It was this woman who showed him that deep, passionate, all consuming love did not have to end with pain. It was this woman who sacrificed her entire world to stay at his side, to devote herself to the mission, to his cause. 

Up until recently it had been their cause, what they had lived for, a rediscovery of self, helping the helpless, in between the moments when they had come to live for each other. 

And in this moment, Cordelia Chase had suddenly decided that it was over. 

Just. Like. That. 

He saw the ring. It was another man's ring on the finger where he had once placed his own. The white gold wrapped around his left hand, third finger went colder than he was, almost as if he was being mocked. 

He was fooled into breathing, her heart beat all he could hear as he stared at the ring shoved into his face, and he barely heard her whispered, "I tried to tell you..." 

He jerked his eyes away from the ring, with the small diamond, much smaller than the one he found, and found himself bracing against the desk for support. The words and the images wouldn't stop ringing, and the white hot anger coursed through him, making him shake just a little. 

Eyes shut and he saw the flashes of his life, of his marriage - the one human thing he had always wanted, first with Buffy, then, finally achieved with Cordelia. A dream with a wedding and a honeymoon, with a ring and a child, with a wife who loved him - who needed him as much as he needed her. 

FUCK. 

"I'm getting married, Angel." She almost sounded like she was apologizing, body heat warming his back, her hand hesitantly on his skin. And then, when he turned and stared, she seemed to shrink back, lose the sympathetic face and harden. "And I'm getting as far away from this place as possible." 

He swallowed, hard, hands wrapped around the wooden desk. If he closed his eyes and sniffed, he wondered, would he still smell the after effects of their lovemaking? Hear the crystal laughter in his ears, following by the ear piercing shriek as nails tore into his back, desperately trying to find leverage before she tipped them both off? He damned himself for being a vampire - if he still had the scars, he could show her, SHOW her what this mission, what HE once meant to her. 

Instead, he could manage a, "What?" as he glared at her form. 

Cordelia Chase, this woman who used to be his wife, was content in her decision, fingering the ring as she gave him a shrug. "I'm through." 

The statement was so ludicrous he could only laugh, a deep, hollow laugh that started in his stomach and ended in his throat. "You can't quit the mission, Cordelia." 

"Oh? Why not?" 

"Because I know you," he reminded her, straightening away from the damned desk and reaching for the brandy, anything to keep from looking at the damned ring that was in HIS place. "I know what quitting would do to you." 

"Really." 

"It would kill you." 

It was her turn to laugh now. "Oh, Angel - you can't make me believe that." 

"I'm not making you believe anything, Cordelia, you know it. You're a Seer, a warrior for the Powers That Be. You can't just ignore the mission just because-" 

"Who says I can't?" she snapped, a tart statement that was so like Cordelia when she was riled, a fussy cat with claws extended. "You did." 

Yes, he did. Years ago, he had fought to ignore the mission to avenge the death of his sire, and he had come back. 

To her. 

"Cordelia-" 

"Angel... Look- don't you get it? That's half the reason! I'm leaving because I don't want to be a Seer, I don't want to be a Warrior." She closed her eyes, turning her head. "What's wrong with just being a woman?" 

"A traitor." There it was - the vampire. Little words that found the appropriate sting, just enough bite to make her freeze, turn and stare. Her eyes grew cold, like flint - but he was past caring. A desperate vampire was cold, hard, like her. 

"A traitor? To what?" 

"You know what!" 

"The mission? Helping the hopeless? Coming back from being sucked in a demon dimension to find that our friend died in a heartless death? Letting some opinionated asses decide who gets saved and who doesn't? NOT getting a vision of my best friend's only son getting taken to an evil dimension?" He moved back, but the words kept coming. "Getting 'tested' and being promoted just as the man I love gets tossed in a box and thrown into the ocean? Being forced to choose between his life and the mission? Choosing between him and his son? I know all ABOUT the mission. I was a freaking demon HOTWIRE for the Powers that Be, Angel. I was UP there, I know how the bastards work, so don't lecture ME on what it takes to be a Warrior or a Seer." The words were broken, edged in emotion, the bitterness that had seeped into his woman's words made him ache. 

God - he should have seen it coming. She experienced all the hate, and all the rage, and all the pain with these visions of hers - it had to have infected her. Rage infested like cancer, and the bitterness only grew. 

"What's the use," she whispered, sinking into the old wooden chair. "God, Angel - you wouldn't understand. You don't understand what it means to be me, to live for ME, just once. To wake up and only worry about ME. Not the mission, not the decision, not the never ending power struggle knowing that one move could kill someone." 

"That wasn't your fault." 

"I killed him, Angel. I allowed it. I allowed an innocent soul-" 

"Cordelia-" 

"I'm done with it." The words were final, hard, and the cold hazel eyes left no room for argument. "I'm getting away from the Powers, and away from your mission, Angel. I'm living at least part of my life like a human being. I know I'm not one anymore, but maybe being a mom, joining the couples section at a small suburban church- could work for me." 

He was tricked into breathing again, a habit that had become more frequent than before - waking up without his wife by his side, the panic would come, and he would gasp for breath, as if he was suffocating. 

Because he was a man, he held the anger inside - the urge to pin this being to him and lock her until she knew she was his own- 

Because he was a vampire, he calculated, never accepted, and he knew, that would not work for her. He had seen true happiness in her eyes, he had seen that hazel almost gold with glow, and he had been the one to give it to her. 

"So, who is this guy?" he finally asked, in the awkward silence that followed. He wasn't sure if she looked more relieved that he had finally moved on, or frightened that he would tear the bastard in two, but she smiled, a wary grin that still made her tired face light up somehow. 

Like she knew he was on to something. God - gotta love that Cordy. 

"Douglas Sanderson III." 

Angel blinked. "Rich guy?" 

"Not really, his dad was just hyped on names. He's more... upper middle class," Cordelia responded. Her eyes seemed to dance with some inner monologue, and the vampire could help but bristle. 

"What's he do?" he asked. 

"It's your business... because?" she asked flatly. Because she was his wife, that was why. 

"Financially stable?" 

"I wouldn't worry, Angel," she said, a hint of patronizing insincerity in her voice. "He's in life insurance, he'll support me just fine." 

Again, Angel couldn't quite believe the words that were coming out of his wife's mouth. "You're leaving me for an insurance salesman?" 

The hell cat his demon wife was quite capable of becoming leaked out at the incredulous tone, and Angel, a damned vampire and a scary one at that, resisted the urge to shrink back, suddenly reminiscing on their nastier fights. "What's wrong with being an insurance salesman?" 

"NOTHING! I was just... it's... respectable." 

"You bet your ass it's respectable. And as normal as you can get." 

"I can see that, I mean it's romantic and sweet, and INSURANCE, CORDELIA?!" Angel's poor frazzled mind threatened to implode. That bit of information did not seem to make sense. "Life insurance? I mean, stocks and bonds, maybe, but I can't picture you marrying a guy in live insurance and being happy about it." 

The expression on her face didn't soften. Instead, Cordelia flipped her hair out of her face with a palm, resolutely staring with a defiant scowl. "I can, Angel, and I like it." Her glare was accompanied by knuckles turned white, by fingers wrapped around wood. Angel's gaze drifted down to the slim digits, and he wondered if she had splinters digging into her skin yet. "Besides. I'm not getting into it. It's his job, and he's not exactly working when he's with me." 

"Oh, he's not." It was almost dismissive, but Cordelia clearly had her heart set on making a point here, and Angel remembered that in this state, it was best to let her rant. She wouldn't quiet down any other way. 

"No, Angel. He doesn't treat me like a co-worker, or a Seer, or a 'Warrior'. He treats me like a woman." 

He 'pffft'ed her. It was something he had learned from his years of being with Cordelia. He had come to hate the sound - as any broody vampire was wont to hate a 'pfft' sound. He also knew it pissed her off more than anything when she heard it from him. 

"I never treated you like a woman?" Insecurity slipped into his voice, a blink as the realization took hold, and he found himself tensing. He could understand Cordelia's determination to quit the mission - the last test had been a trying one, too much, too soon. But HE never treated her like a woman? 

"Doesn't matter. What DOES matter, is he's sweet, and he's nice, and he's noble, and he's innocent, Angel. No jaded answers, no haunting pasts, no mission to atone for." A soft wisp of a homespun smile crossed her face. "He has hope, Angel. Wants a wife, with kids-" 

"Hell, Cordelia, in that case, maybe I should marry the guy." The irritated mumble garnered a smack on the arm, and the light contact, almost playful, the evidence that he STILL got under her skin, made him smile. And she liked his smiles. Told him all the time. The grin on his face froze the one on hers, and once again, she turned away from him, breaking the eye contact and moving away from him. 

"You should," she responded stiffly, "But I'M marrying him tomorrow, Angel, so I really don't think-" 

"TOMORROW?!" Angel turned, eyes suddenly wide. "You're marrying him tomorrow?" 

"Yeah. Tomorrow. As in 'day after today'." 

FUCK. Angel swallowed, turning his head as he once again braced himself against the desk, narrowing his eyes. Tomorrow. 

Cordelia's hazel eyes burned into his back, but he didn't turn, lost in his own thoughts, panic driven scenes involving Cordelia, a set of chains, a locked bedroom, and a bed. 

"Wow. That was... long, and intense. But I got it out, so... I'm leaving." He blinked, found her gathering her leather jacket and moving toward the door, suddenly awkward in her haste to escape him. "Bye, Angel-" 

It wasn't that simple. It was never that simple, and Angel, frozen in his own overwhelmed emotions, straightened, turning in her direction and blurting out, "Hey, Cor." 

Cordelia was clearly waiting for something from him, and the way her palms shook, a gesture so minute he might have missed it, made him wonder if it was more than just words. Action, perhaps? Was she waiting for him to turn, lock fingers around her wrists, throw her on the desk and prove her heart was still his? "What?" 

There was something Cordelia had once told him, during their long training sessions: she was an expert at staving. 

He should have taken notes. 

"Uhm..." Coming forward, he managed a grim smile. "I'm sorry... You kinda... you know... I just... I know it didn't work out, and it should have, but... if it doesn't, it doesn't. If you don't want the mission, then there's nothing I can do to stop it, so... good luck. I hope you have... a normal life." 

-- 

Wow. That was almost way too easy. Cordelia held her breath, staring at her ex-husband with narrowed hazel orbs. She knew Angel. Really KNEW him, and that was just WAY TOO EASY. 

This was Angel. Stalkery, possessive, rip the heavens and earth to get her back Angel. And he was just... LETTING her go? What happened to the yelling? The growling? The threats to pin her to the table and screw her into the wood? Placid, forgiving, accepting Angel wasn't an Angel she recognized - and she KNEW Angel. 

"What are you on?" she finally asked flatly. 

"Nothing! I really do wish you well." 

"Right. And you also wish that N Sync will get back together and do that reunion concert with Britney Spears." 

"Cordelia." 

"Fine," she managed at the exasperated tone. Angel's dark eyes pinned her, and at the shift in her heart, Cordelia closed her eyes. She was being rude. This was Angel, and he was being surprisingly understanding. He deserved better than her snaps. "Thank you." 

"Your welcome." He fidgeted, and again, she couldn't help but wonder - that's it? She waited, until finally she was sure he wouldn't say anymore. Shrugging, the Seer turned, fully intending to push the door out when she heard, "I just wish I could meet the guy, is all." A-ha! Cordelia turned, triumphant, fully prepared to launch into a tirade about ulterior motives, until the pained look in Angel's eyes once again made her freeze. DAMN. That hurt. Dark, deep, puppy dog orbs so reminiscent of a time long ago, when she had sworn he would never have that look again. 

Suddenly apologetic, she found herself shifting, and saying the single most stupid thing she had ever, EVER said. "You can. He's right outside." Yes, very stupid. So stupid, she should have just kept her stupid big mouth shut. 

"Outside?" he repeated. "Right now?" 

"Yes, bonehead. Outside, right now. You can meet him." She was being abnormally generous, until she remembered - Angel = vampire. "Only if you promise NOT to kill him, not to threaten him or try to rip his head off." 

"I only did that once." 

"Twice." 

"That other guy deserved it!" 

"Forget it-" 

"Wait!" Her movement was constricted by a cool palm on her warm shoulder. Angel's strength turned her, and the contrite vampire shot her an emphatic nod. "Agreed." 

"You want to meet him," she repeated. 

And he grinned. This little boy grin that he had first flashed her so many years ago, when he was pleading with her to make friends with Fred. Good GOD- he should have had that thing patented. Letting out a dramatic sigh, Cordelia rolled her eyes, praying for Douglas' sake that her fiancé was feeling somewhat irate. Douglas was a good, good soul, and incredibly nice. 

What on earth had she gotten herself into? 

"So... shall we?" 

This was just way too surreal. Cordelia took a moment to pray for patience, before she realized she didn't do that anymore, and opted for just pulling the door open, and getting it over with. 

"Let's go." 

"Let's go." Angel smiled, and that was when she got REALLY worried. Angel all 'smiley' was never a good sign. Cordelia stood stock still, wary as he practically skipped past her and strode into the crowded lobby of Angel Investigations. Leaning against the office door, Cordelia narrowed her eyes, focused on the way Angel walked through the crowd, heading straight for what appeared to be a... REALLY green, really scaly, three-eyed demon. 

Her jaw dropped slightly when Angel bent down and took the scaly hand. 

"Well... now this is more like it!" Cordelia sighed, pushing off from the door and weaving past a staring Connor and Faith, around Fred and Gunn, to finally stand with crossed arms as Angel slapped the old demon on the back. "I can see why Cordy picked you! Congratulations!" 

Old Scaley Demon guy just looked confused. "'Bout what?" 

"Your marriage!" Angel blinked, turning back to Cordelia. "What, you haven't told him yet?" 

She glared. Douglas, still seated on the orange couch, shot her a questioning glance, but she only shrugged. At this point - there was no point to try and explain this. 

"I... I'm already married," the demon guy said. 

Douglas stood, trying to tap Angel on the shoulder. "Hey-" 

Angel shook him off. "If you need help, one of our qualified associates can help you," he said over his shoulder, turning back to the demon guy. "Now, Mr. -" 

"Hey-" Douglas tried again. 

Angel kept his clasp firm on the older demon's hand as he turned and glared at the young man. "I'm busy, SIR. Fred, could you come help this guy?" 

"But, I'm not-" 

"You got it all-" 

Faith walked forward, mimicking Cordelia's posture as she viewed the scene of the vampire brushing off Cordelia's fiancé in favor of holding a conversation with the blustering demon. "I tell ya, Cor. You sure know how to pick these freaks." 

"Bite me, Faith," Cordelia responded sweetly. Faith smirked, and the two women fell silent again. 

"Now, Mr. Sande-" 

"But I'm not-" 

"Mr. Angel, I'm-" 

The growl was unmistakable as Angel snapped back, his loss of patience clear. "Now, listen buddy, can't you see I'm trying to have a conversation with Mr. Sanderson-" 

"But *I'M* Mr. Sanderson!" Angel froze, features mimicking disbelief before he blinked. 

"You're Sanderson? The third?" Douglas nodded. Cordelia cocked her head, watching as Angel took in the sandy blonde hair and the built body. She smiled. He was a hottie. "Well, who the hell is this guy?" Angel asked, pointing to the hand he still clasped in his palm. Douglas shrugged. Angel turned back to the demon. "Who are you?" 

"I'm Justin Walin," the demon said. "I was here for a-" 

"Justin Walin?" Angel repeated. "Justin, what the hell are you doing, poking your... really LONG nose into our conversation?" 

"But, I-" 

"Stay out of it. Fred, help him," he said, pushing the demon away toward the astounded Fred. Out of sight, out of mind, Angel immediately turned his attention back to Douglas. Cordelia rolled her eyes at Angel's posture. Douglas was still taller, but he didn't care one whit. He still stared the fiancé down as if the guy was a midget. 

"So, Doug, do you mind if I call ya Doug?" 

"Well, no not really-" 

"Doug!" Good LORD, Angel was a dork. 

"You realize he only acts like a spaz when he's around you?" Faith whispered in her ear. She did, but she didn't comment. Giving Faith an elbow in the ribs, she moved past the Slayer to her fiancé and her ex-husband. 

"Just a great pleasure to meet you, my wife- I mean, your wife- I mean... Cordy..." Angel stared into Douglas' face, peering into each wrinkle before he turned and announced, "Cordelia, how could you let me think you were marrying an old guy? This guy's handsome!" 

Doubt immediately clouded Douglas' expression. "You thought I was-" 

"Angel, I never told you he was old," Cordelia snapped, sinking into the couch. 

But Angel was having too much fun with her poor baby, and with eyes of a predator that missed nothing, he spotted the umbrella in Doug's hands. "You always carry an umbrella, Doug?" 

Her fiancé cast an uncertain glance down, before muttering, "Well, it looked kinda cloudy-" 

"Sure. In this city you can never be too careful. What with the vampires, and monsters and demons, and the unspeakable evil in this world- that umbrella's sure gonna keep you safe." 

Douglas' face paled slightly. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes. Yeah. This was about enough. "I think we should get going, Douglas," she hinted, drawing her hand into the crook of his elbow in an attempt to pull him away. 

But Angel had already grabbed hold of Douglas' free hand, and with a burst of strength, nearly sent the man sprawling toward him. "That's right, we SHOULD get going." 

"What? Where?" Cordelia blurted, stiffening. 

"Lunch! Cordelia, don't tell me you didn't tell him!" 

"Tell him what?" Douglas asked, craning his neck to stare at Cordy as Angel pulled them both toward the basement. 

"I'm taking you both for lunch. Nice old place. Cordy used to love it." 

Faith watched with darkening eyes, the smirk on her face frozen as she watched with more tension that she let on, as Angel pulled the still protesting Cordelia and her hapless stupid fiancé toward the sewer exit. 

"Angel, you can't leave now!" Fred stammered. "Remember? Bethany?" 

"That can wait!" 

"No, it can't-" Faith's hand shot out, grabbing hold of Fred's elbow, hindering the girl from going further. 

"Shut up, Fred," she said evenly, keeping the physicist pinned to her. "Just keep quiet." 

"Faith-" 

"Let him work," Faith said, letting go as soon as the vampire, the Seer, and the fiancé were out the door. "You know what he's up to." 

"He doesn't have a chance," Gunn announced, coming up behind his girlfriend and shoving hands into his over-sized jeans. "Cordy isn't coming back. You heard her." 

"You don't think Angel could convince her? This is a pretty big case. Maybe this is what she needs." 

"Fred, why the hell do you always have to be such a damned optimist?" Faith turned away, eyes skimming over the tablet of notes she held. Damned Watcher and his nearly illegible handwriting. "You know as well as I do, that that shit that made Cordy quit isn't gonna get fixed just because she still thinks Angel's cute." Dark brown eyes darkened thoughtfully, her heart twisting at the memory. "I don't even know how the girl could stand to walk back in here." 

"But... maybe Angel can change that," Fred whispered, suddenly wistful. "Remind her that it wasn't all about the heartache and the pain- I mean, ONE time, compared to all the good times-" 

Faith and Gunn exchanged a glance. At times, Fred's belief in humanity was refreshing, other times, it was heartbreakingly naïve. "Fred, she's responsible for damning a human soul to eternal torment. Tell me how that compares." Faith frowned. "Getting her back, that shit isn't going to be easy." 

"What? You think he could?" Gunn looked genuinely curious, almost hopeful, expression mimicking his girlfriend's as they stood side by side. 

"I think Angel's a damned obsessive vampire who's got a lobster who he wants back. He'll get Cor back, or he'll die trying - hell..." Faith smirked. "I might even help. Might be fun." 

"Well, we could sure use that bargaining chip Cordy's got with the Powers," Gunn mused. "That girl's got an in none of us do." 

"Well, I'm fucking looking forward to the game." A young man entered the hotel, distracting the Slayer and forcing her to turn away from the couple. "Come on. We've got work to do." 

-- 

"It won't do any good, Angel," she said through gritted teeth. "You're wasting your time." 

With an equally forced smile, Angel responded, "Nonsense, Cordy. Happy to do it. Someone's gotta show you kids a good time, right?" 

"So... where are we going?" Douglas asked, slightly skittish as he peered through the sewer tunnels, sidestepping a piece of indefinable waste. "Some... vampire place?" 

"A vampire place?" Cordelia offered a short laugh. "Hardly. A self respecting vampire wouldn't be caught dead..." She paused. "So, of course it's perfectly natural Angel would practically live there." 

"It's an old work romp," Angel responded, tossing a glare Cordelia's way. 

Cordelia and Angel continued to walk assuredly through the darkened tunnels, barely missing a step as they skimmed around the various debris, leaving Douglas to hop behind. "Isn't it, kinda... how can you two see in here?" 

"Cordy- we could use that nightlight." 

"Bite me, Angel!" 

"Hey! I'm doing this for Doug's sake. Isn't that right, Doug?" 

"Nightlight?" 

Cordelia suppressed a sigh, pausing as she turned to study her skipping fiancé, who was doing his best to keep his long trenchcoat out of the bad smelling objects. "Maybe Angel's right," she grudgingly admitted. "Sweetie, don't freak out, okay?" 

"Freak out, why would I - HOLY CRAP - YOU'RE GLOWING!" 

Indeed, she was. The entire tunnel was filled with a radiant light, and Douglas stared, transfixed as all of it seemed to radiate from his fiancé. "Wow," he breathed. 

"Can you see?" Cordelia asked. 

Douglas shifted, shaking out of his reverie to smile. "Beautifully. Thanks." 

Cordelia smiled, stepping forward to take his hand. "It's okay, sweetie- that's what Light Bright Cordy's for." 

He smiled, a soft grin and made her own smile widen in return, pulling at her lips as she leaned forward. The slap she got on her back stung, and Douglas himself yelped as Angel suddenly appeared between them, grinning himself. "What a great moment! I can just feel the warmth! Come on, we're gonna be late." 

He pushed them into the general direction, and Cordelia sighed, irritation nearly swallowing her hole. 

"Where are going?" Douglas asked again. 

"Unless I'm wrong, and I'm really NEVER wrong about HIM," Cordelia muttered, "We're going to Caritas." 

-- 

_END CHAPTER_   



	3. Chapter Three

**Title: His Girl Friday**   
**Author: Misty Flores**   
With special contribution by Ness   
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com   
Teaser: So 'Happily Ever After' didn't last forever, and now Cordelia's ready to move past the mission, and on with her life, without Angel Investigations. Course, intent is always easier than execution, especially when Angel and company, aren't ready to let her go.   
Genre: Angel/Cordelia, Cordelia/Other - Comedy   
Rating: R for language, some sexual situations.   
Spoilers: Tomorrow. Speculation for Season Four.   
Notes: Remake based on the forties screwball classic 'His Girl Friday'. AU, Futuristic - and damned wacky. 

More notes- The majority of Chapter Three was written by Ness (www.stoic-simplicity.net/anr). 'Cause she rocks. 

As always- three chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm.   
-- 

**CHAPTER THREE**

_"What am I going to do? I'm good for exactly two things-international super-stardom, or helping a vampire with a soul to rid the world of evil. That makes for a short, but colorful, resume."_ Cordelia, I Will Remember You 

-- 

Caritas was exactly like she remembered it... which meant it was NOTHING like she remembered it. Stepping through the metal detector she paused just inside the entrance and surveyed the decidedly eighties decor critically. 

"This version thirteen or fourteen?" she asked curiously. 

Angel pushed her further into the club, handing over a trio of small daggers to the door guard, and then looked up as he pocketed his weapon's slip. "Nineteen--Lorne had a run of popstar-related riots last month." 

An eyebrow quirked delicately. "Britney Spears?" 

"Versus Mandy Moore--it wasn't pretty." 

"So this whole electric blue and silver theme...?" 

Angel shrugged. "Something about flashbacking to when ALL music was bad." 

She snorted briefly and then, realizing that Douglas was still at the metal detector, hurried to his side. "It's ok, Sweetie," she assured him, taking in the bug-eyed look on his face as the man stared at the menagerie of demons milling around, "everyone's harmless here. Caritas is a sanctuary-a fighting, killing and dismemberment free zone." 

Wide eyes got impossibly larger. "DISMEMBERBENT?!" 

She swallowed back an 'oops', and smiled reassuringly. "That only happened once and it wasn't anyone we knew anyway," she squeezed his hand gently, "you'll be fine here--trust me." 

Nodding a little blankly, Douglas watched as a group of Chaos demons started on--what appeared to be--their fifth round of shots and managed a weak smile. "Uh huh." 

Still smiling she tugged on his hand, pulling him further into the club as she followed Angel towards a free table. As she side-stepped a Fyarl demon, however, she let go of Doug's hand to tap on a very familiar vermilion-suited shoulder. 

"Hello, Lorne," she announced cheerfully, her smile widening as the Pylean froze briefly before turning with almost vampiric-speed. 

"Brown-eyes! Don't tell me it's you!" 

She chuckled, allowing the demon to pull her into a big hug. "None other," pulling back she peered at him critically, "how've you been?" 

All smiles, Lorne nodded happily. "Can't complain." 

"I can," piped up Angel as he stopped at a nearby table, "I'm hungry." 

She ignored him, as did Lorne, shrugging out of her jacket and laying it on the back of her chair. Douglas--ever the gentleman--pulled the seat out for her and she gave him a smile as she sat before looking to Lorne again. 

"Business good?" she asked, blinking suddenly as she realized that Angel, with his damned vampire reflexes, had slipped into the chair next to her only split-seconds before Douglas himself could sit down. The words 'comic farce' floated through her brain as she glared at her ex-husband who, with complete politeness, was now pointing Douglas towards a different seat. 

"Never better," Lorne answered, regaining her attention. "Switching to Wolfram and Hart's insurance policy was the best thing I ever did-I actually look forward to people demolishing the club now--gives me an excuse to redecorate." 

Angel growled--no doubt at the mention of the law firm--and she considered extending this particular conversation topic with Lorne just to piss him off. Douglas' nervousness at her ex's version of caveman language, however, warned her against the idea and she let it drop, choosing   
instead to smile as she patted Lorne's arm. "Well, it's good to see Caritas up and running   
still--I've searched for other places like it and found a serious case of demon phobia among the hospitality industry." 

Angel, now perusing the menu, muttered something about the day's specials but Lorne talked right over him. "I'm definitely in a niche-market, that's for sure." Red eyes darted to Douglas curiously. "Now, who is this hunk of Baywatch-goodness?" 

Grinning broadly, Cordelia reached across the table to grasp Douglas' hand. "Lorne, this is my fiancé, Douglas Sanderson III. Dougy, this is a very special friend of mine, Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan." 

Lorne leant past a still-perusing Angel to shake the man's hand, smiling genteelly. "Just Lorne, Buttercup--titles make me blush." 

Snapping the menu shut, Angel slapped Douglas' back companionably. "And with Lorne's complexion, that isn't as easy as it sounds, Doug." 

Lorne and Cordelia rolled their eyes as Douglas chuckled along with Angel, Cordelia taking the menu from the vampire. 

"So, you guys here for liquids or solids?" asked Lorne. 

"Both," answered Angel, stealing Douglas' menu and putting it aside, "allow me," he insisted. "We'll have the special, thanks, Lorne." To Douglas, he explained, "Lorne's specials are great--full of all that nutrition-y goodness stuff." 

'Nutrition-y goodness?' Cordelia found herself mouthing. Hazel eyes found dark brown, and when she found Angel grinning broadly, she couldn't suppress the roll of her eyes. He winked back. 'Moron'. 

"Sounds nice," agreed Doug. 

Lorne raised an eyebrow, "you're a fan of O-Pos Souffle, my Big Blonde Melon?" 

Cordelia snorted. "Doug and I'll have roast-beef sandwiches," she decided, seeing Doug's sudden grimace as she handed Lorne the menus and offered Angel a sarcastic grin, "after all, we wouldn't want you to have to share." 

Angel's smile was entirely too unabashed. 

-- 

It was almost fun, he decided, as Lorne headed away to organize their food. As long as he could--temporarily, at least--disregard the fact that HIS wife was considering marrying someone ELSE, the whole playing-with-Dougy-Boy's-naivety was quite amusing. Like when he used to dangle Dru's affections in front of a wheelchair-bound Spike--a little cruel but oh-so-enjoyable. 

Besides, Cordelia could hate him as much as she liked now; later she'd be thanking him for saving her from making such a huge mistake. If nothing else, he was sure of THAT. 

"Well, well, well," he started, fixing Doug with another appraising look. "So you two are getting married--how does that feel, Doug?" 

"It feels awful good," Doug answered, smiling across the table at Cordy. 

"I'm sure it does," Angel replied, idly wondering what Doug would look like with a broken nose, "you're getting a hell of a girl for yourself." 

"I realize that," nodded Doug. "Things have been different for me ever since I met Cordy. I've ever met anyone quite like her before. Everybody else I've ever known... well, you could always tell ahead of time what they were going to say or do, but Cordy's not like that. You can't tell that about her." He once again caught his gaze with Cordelia. "Getting attacked by that demon was the best thing that ever happened to me." 

Angel nodded in time to Doug's simpering, congratulating himself on not throwing up when Doug gave Cordelia a cheesy grin. "That's nice." 

When Doug finished oozing, it took Angel almost thirty seconds to realize that Cordy WASN'T going to scoff and snort at the overload of honeyed sap. In fact, he realized as he darted a look at Cordy's bright smile, she seemed to ENJOY hearing it. Angel blinked, a sting of insecurity flitting through him. She had once told him she enjoyed his smiles, that she wanted him to do it more often. Brooding was damned cool. Did she want him to turn into THIS? 

Coughing just a little, he leant back in his chair. "Yes, well, you're getting something else too, Doug, you're getting a terrific Warrior." He glanced at Cordy and gave her a sincere--and rakish--smile. "One of the best Seer's ever kissed," he sighed sorrowfully--meaning it despite the dramatic overtones--and shook his head, "I'll be sorry to see her go." In a brief, reluctant moment his smile slipped and he wiped his hand over his mouth to hide the lapse as he faced her. Dark eyes roved over his Cordy's features intensely. "Damn sorry, Cor." 

She nodded once, returning the deep gaze. There was a slight jolt with that, a whisper of something that was sparked long ago, but it was severed, too quickly, when Cordelia looked away, breaking the connection. "Oh well," she sighed, "despite everything, if I ever wanted to rejoin the battle between good and evil--which I won't--but if I did, there's only one agency I'd work with." 

Grinning, Angel shifted in his chair again. "I'd kill you if you ever worked with anyone else," he stated unequivocally. 

"You hear that, Dougy? That's my diploma." And there it was, her laugh, a beautiful crystal clear sound that he hadn't heard in months. Free, unrestricted, and for the moment he was captivated. How long had it been, Angel wondered, torn from his act to gaze at his wife, since she had truly let herself go? Hazel eyes shone brightly, filled with life, brimming with kindness, edged with bitterness over the choices she had made. 

He had become just another thing she regretted. 

Smiling back, Doug leaned forward. "Well, it sounds like a hell of a business." 

Angel fought the grimace before it came to his face, narrowing his eyes at Cordelia. "Only in the summer," Angel quipped. Forcing a smile that was meant to almost scare, Angel turned and continued with, "we try to keep the rest of the year dimension-free." 

Not getting the joke, Dougy-Boy's frown intensified as a brief flash of light lit up the space between Cordy's and Angel's chairs. "What was that?" 

Raising an eyebrow at his wife--former!--Angel let her field the query as he unobtrusively reached under the table to massage his shin. Damn. He knew one day he'd regret showing her that kick. 

"Nothing, Sweetie," Cordy assured him, her gaze cold as ice as she glared at Angel, completely contradicting in comparison to her sweet tone, leaning back as their food appeared. "Thanks, Lorne. Looks great." 

The Pylean smiled. "Anytime, Princess," he nodded to the two men, "Bumblebee, Cupcake." 

Breaking off some pastry, Angel dunked it in the warm blood, inordinately pleased when Doug turned a shade of green that could have rivaled Lorne's skin tone. "So, getting married, huh?" he reiterated once again, "where are you planning to live?" 

Dougy-Boy swallowed hard, his excessively large Adam's apple bobbing like a buoy--Angel wondered if Cordy would thank him if he jabbed that protrusion towards the back the guy's throat; surely something that big got in the way?--and tore his gaze away from Angel's lunch. "Maine." 

"Maine, huh?" Angel looked at Doug curiously. "Got family up there?" 

Doug nodded. "Oh yes--my parents." 

"Parents," Angel repeated, sliding a look at Cordy. She merely arched an eyebrow, as if DARING him to comment. "You're gonna live with your parents?" 

With a half-smile, Doug took a bite of his sandwich. "Not quite--they've got a granny flat above the garage--we'll live there for the first year until we find a house of our own." 

Angel grinned broadly. "Oh, well that WILL be nice, won't it? At home with the parents--in a granny flat--in Maine too!" 

Another kick, another flash of light, and Angel simply grinned as he nibbled on another blood-soaked piece of pastry. One of these days Cordy was gonna remember that he never turned down a dare, or a challenge. 

"It's a lovely town, Maine. Stephen King lives there, you know?" Doug offered, obviously blind to Angel's sarcasm. 

Angel frowned. "Never cared much for King's books--all full of monsters and demons--" he shook his head, "--nothing like real life." Cordy snorted and Doug blinked, but before either could comment, Angel sighed. "Still, not a bad place, I suppose." A grin suddenly lit up his features and he swiveled in his chair to face Cordy. "Say! Do you remember the time you had a vision about the Gorgaltia Sea Monster?" 

It was reluctant, he could tell, but slowly a matching grin spread across his wife's features. "You mean the one where the good coastal townsfolk were about to become the appetizers for its 'return to society' debut? How could I forget! Thing was almost as big as Mayor Wilkins." 

"Snake Wilkins," Angel corrected her, entranced by the sparkle that seemed to light up her eyes--he was right, she wasn't done with the mission; she COULDN'T be, not with that look--and make her glow, but in a non-demon-y way. 

"You know a man named 'Snake'?" Doug interrupted then, a confused look on his face, and Angel withheld a sigh as he watched Cordy redirect her grin to someone else. 

"He wasn't named 'Snake'," she explained, "he WAS a snake." 

"Back in OUR old hometown," Angel continued, not afraid to add some emphasis, "Sunnydale's Mayor ascended during Cor's high school graduation--turned himself into a twenty-foot serpent." He smiled a little at the memory. "It was a killer ceremony." He tipped his head in her direction. "Cordy dusted her first vamp that day." 

For a second she looked at him, a little startled, and he knew that she'd never expected him to remember that tiny little slice of her past. A pleased smile then drifted across her face. "Well, using a stake sure beat my old spatula, that's for sure." 

"Good times," agreed Angel, dipping a spoon into his soufflé. Unmindful of the blood dripping from the cutlery, he gestured a little in Doug's direction. "Quite different from your line of work, I'd   
say," he hypothesized, licking the back of the spoon. Doug's green hue went ash-grey, much to Angel's delight. "How is the business in Maine?" 

Looking away, Doug fiddled with his napkin. "Good, actually--Maine's a mighty nice insurance town--most people up there take it out pretty early in life." 

Angel nodded. "Uh huh, I can see why they would." 

This time, when Cordy kicked him, he sent her a deliberately questioning look. 'What'd I say?' he projected with a load of innocence. She glared back. He quirked an eyebrow. One of these days, she was really going to have to learn that dumb and stupid bored her really quickly. Wasn't Groo enough of an example? 

Doug, AGAIN oblivious to this little exchange, nodded enthusiastically. "See, I figure I'm in a business that really helps people." Lorne silently reappeared at the table, collecting their plates. "Of course, we don't help you much while you're alive, but afterward--that's what counts!" 

No, thought Angel, what counts is helping people to STAY alive. Mentally he added 'insurance agents' into the same category as 'lawyers': evil. Out loud, however, he laughed, "sure!" Deliberately, he stopped in mid-chuckle, frowned, and stated. "I don't get it." 

Doug blinked, Cordy kicked, and Lorne jumped as a bright flash of light almost whited out their vision. "Yow!" 

Cordy looked up apologetically. "Er, sorry, Lorne--my foot must have slipped." 

Ruby-red eyebrows almost merged with similarly colored horns, but Lorne simply smiled, nodded and backed away from the table with a limp. "Quite alright, my Transcendent Tamale." 

Cordy flushed and Angel smirked. 

"Nice one." 

-- 

'Okay, Cordelia. Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes and you're home free, and on a plane, and leaving the entire Angel Investigations life behind for good.' 

Cordelia forced a smile on her face, leaning back in her chair, to study the two men (okay, one man and one very annoying vampire) as they sat side by side. Douglas, always unfailingly polite, listened with a genuine smile on his face. Angel's smile was... well... scary. 

It had been a while, but Cordelia would never forget the innate quirks that made the Broody Champion (who was being entirely too non-broody for her peace of mind) tick. Angel had scared off men before, but this was... different. Almost... her eyes narrowed, studying the interaction... new. Happy Angel? 

It was eerily reminiscent of Angelus, and with nary a Broody Angel in sight, Cordelia was slightly at a loss. She had been prepared for angst, pleads, broken hearted denials- Not SINGING. 

Good LORD – ANYTHING BUT THE SINGING. 

Her heart skipped a beat slightly, panic welling in her throat as Doug, always game for anything, was already moving onto the stage, microphone in hand. 

She blinked. 'What the hell?' 

"Umm... hey. Is this thing on?" Eyes widening in unspoken horror, Cordelia's insides twisted in an unmistakable knot as Angel himself tapped on the free microphone. 'Please, not him. Please not him, Please, not him-' "Hey, guys. I'm Angel. Now, I'm not going to be singing tonight-" 

Collective sighs of relief rose through the hall. Cordelia herself slumped back, blowing out a breath. 

"-But I wanted to personally introduce a new friend of mine. Very lucky man, named Douglas. He's a first-timer, so let's make him feel welcome!" 

Despite the overwhelming feeling of dread, Cordelia couldn't help the grin that slipped on her features as Angel moved off the stage, and Douglas was left alone, visibly nervous. 

He flashed another smile, and looked in her general direction, the glare of the stage lights obstructing his vision any further. "I... um..." he coughed, scratching at his hair. "I... guess this one is for my Cordy." 

She winced. 'Thanks, Angel. So glad that caught on.' 

"Sugar. Oh, Honey, honey-" 

Cordelia blinked, overwhelming surprise flitting over her as she recognized the song her fiancé was slaughtering. "The Archies?" From beside the stage, Angel was grinning entirely too broadly. 

Behind her, she felt the demon before she saw him. Cordelia offered Lorne a smile, and the Host winked back. "Like old times, hey Princess?" 

Old times. Cordelia's smile froze. Old times. 

Sitting at this table, in Angel's lap in an effort to keep him seated, whispering in his ear to behave when Wesley walked into the room. Sitting at a version of this table, tired and wet, eyes closed as she waited with a heavy heart for Angel to tell Darla his baby couldn't be born. 

Slow dancing in the wee hours of the morning, held close seconds before the bomb was dropped and number eight went up in flames. 

She had been forced to wear a gauze for a month after that. 

"Yeah," she replied tightly. "Old times. Not if I can help it." 

Lorne held the seabreeze in his hand, and in his eyes was the distracted gleam. 

He was reading Douglas. 

With the realization came an instant bout of anger. Cordelia stiffened in her chair, eyes whipping back to where Douglas was bobbing his head, almost head banging to his version of 'Sugar, Sugar'. 

Lorne continued to read, cocking his head, mouth pulling into a frown. He shifted feet. Cordelia, throat suddenly parched, swiveled her gaze toward the side of the stage. Angel stared back, smile gone, eyes also focused on Lorne. 

Oh, HELL NO- 

Voice tight, mouth still frozen in that smile, she inclined her head. "I don't want to know." 

Lorne had always been a friend, a good friend. Cordelia had long ago come to trust him, heed his advice. At those moment, years of memories struggling to the surface, she just wanted him gone. Away. 

Lorne's frown deepened. His piercing gaze held something that she didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. "Sweetpea-" 

"I don't want to know. Anything 'aura-wise' is 'power-wise' and I'm done with that, Lorne. So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of it." 

"Slightly touchy with the PMS today, aren't we, Cordelia?" he asked pointedly. Cordelia felt her insides give, but she held firm. No one did 'bitch-fight' better than she did. She knew that, and so did he. 

"Don't start, Lorne. I didn't come here for guidance. I didn't want to come here at all. I don't want to hear that you 'don't think it will work out', because it will, and I don't want to hear you say that 'the mission will never leave me' because it already did, and I don't want to hear anything about Angel 'needing a Seer', because he's managed just fine without one for months." 

"That all, Cordee-lite?" 

The slight reminder of her less-than-glowy state almost earned him another snap, but Douglas chose the moment to almost yodel the 'I can make love so sweet' line, and both heads swiveled to the front. 

Thanks to the wonders of peripheral vision, Cordelia also caught her ex-husband wincing as he covered his ears. 

"We clear?" Cordelia said, voice conversational. 

"Crystal as LA on a smog-y day," Lorne quipped. "One thing I am curious about," he said finally, voice so deceptively casual, she almost believed he was actually just asking. "The visions, sugar lips. Still have them, don't you?" 

The tightening of her stomach almost made her nauseous. Keeping her eyes on her fiancé, her hands tightened around the glass, cool condensation keeping her palms from overheating. The anger was boiling just slightly, a sliver of frustration was just enough for her to turn her head and view the aura reader directly. "IF what you're implying is that simply because I'm vision-bound I'm somehow obligated to the cause, you're wrong, Lorne." 

"Ah." 

"Furthermore, and please understand, that I am by no means attempting to justify myself to you, just trying to shut you up-" 

"Of course." 

"I learned something. Up there, remember?" she snapped, pointing furiously toward the ceiling. "I learned a lot of things, but one of them was control – over the visions. I just put a buffer over my head and the things just bounce back like rubber." 

"So you never get them." 

"Not if I concentrate," she responded. 

"Ah." The awkward tension was harsh, she knew, compared to the warm smiles they were sharing earlier, but the decision had been made. Lorne, like everyone was just going to have to deal. "Sounds like you got it all figured out, don't you?" 

"Shut up, Lorne," she said patronizingly, turning back to Douglas. "You don't have to be sarcastic with me. I know your view on the subject, we'll let it go, okay?" 

"They hurt you pretty bad, didn't they, kitten?" 

She closed her eyes, struggled for control, and managed a deep breath. "Good-BYE, Lorne." 

A soft caress on her shoulder was his response. "Be happy, sweetie." 

Stinging orbs made her tremble for control, and when she finally had it, she took a breath, opened her eyes, and found Douglas cueing up for another song, amidst the applause from the diversified crowd, Angel himself looking through the books, most likely to pick something to really annoy her. 

"Oh, HELL No," she breathed, standing, and moving toward the stage. "Sweetie, that was lovely, but that's really enough." 

Both men look startled, and Angel only gave her an innocent smile. "Cordelia, Doug-y here is just going to-" 

"We don't have time, sweetie," she said quickly, smiling widely as she locked a palm around Doug's wrist, pulling off the stage. Hard. 

"Cordelia, don't you think we have time for just one-" 

"No." The hard tone quickly was softened by her gentle smile. And it was gentle. Until she directed it toward Angel. The vampire smirked, and she waited, eyes catching his when she said, "The plane is leaving in two hours, remember?" 

That was enough to make the smirk stop. That had been all she wanted. Waiting for the smugness to set in, Cordelia found herself looking away, when Angel's expression suddenly changed. 

She shuddered. Douglas himself smiled, patting her hand and pulling her closer, folding her into his side. 

"Two hours? You're leaving in two hours?" Angel repeated. 

"Yeah," Doug confirmed happily. "The flight to Maine with the wedding tomorrow." 

"We're really very happy," Cordelia remarked flatly, an arched eyebrow clearly enunciating her point. 'Not one word, Angel', she prayed fervently. 'Please don't make a scene.' 

Her heart, still human, despite the demonization and her brief stint as a 'Higher Being', skipped a beat, making her body somehow sweaty and cold at the same time. 

But the vampire once again surprised her. He was quiet only a second, before his managed a smile and nodded. "Great." 

The glint immediately vanished, and Cordelia couldn't stop the small burst of disappointment that she immediately shoved away. Snuggling further into Douglas' embrace, she smiled back. "Yeah." 

-- 

Two hours. 

Two hours. 

Two hours. 

It was almost a mantra, and Angel found it pounding in his head as he turned from the table, found the dark corner where the Host held another Seabreeze in his hand. 

"Well?" 

Lorne's eyes were darker than usual, their intensity matched the vampire's, but his frown was deeper. "You've got your work cut out for you, Angelcakes." 

Angel paused, glancing back at the table with Cordelia and her fiancé, speaking together in low tones. "She's coming back, Lorne." 

"Not if she can help it." 

"She can't." The tone was flat, dangerous, and Lorne immediately recognized it. It was visible when the demon's lips twitched slightly, in the hooded gaze that Angel gave, arms crossed, a defensive stance. 

Silence spoke more than words, as the Host leaned against the bar, regarded his old friend, the Champion. 

"Tell me something, Cinnamon buns," he said. "What makes you think by doing this you're saving her?" Angel's eyes narrowed, but Lorne continued. "A normal life, who's to say that's not wrong? She's suffered, Angel-" 

"And she's been happy, Lorne." Angel's voice was low, dark. "Happier than I've ever seen her, when she's working the mission. Helping, and seeing- you read auras, Lorne, but I've been in her. I've loved her, and I've hated her and I've known her more than any one else alive. You know as well as I do that her bitterness isn't toward the mission, but the Powers-" 

"Then how do you expect to bring her back to working for them?" 

"If what she wants is to screw the Powers, then we'll screw them," Angel said. "But the mission stays." The mission. And him. He took in a breath, felt the demon inside shift, a low growl that was quickly suppressed rippled through, and his mind, ever calculating, began to shift. "Have Faith call my cell phone in a minute." 

"Angel-" 

"Do it, Lorne." 

The "As you wish, your Highness," was disregarded, as Angel turned back to the table. 

-- 

"You had me thinking he was ... well... a vampire, Cordelia." 

Cordelia cocked an eyebrow, hand frozen in mid-air, a peanut almost in her mouth. "So you're saying you LIKE him?" 

"Well, he's really not that bad." 

"Right." Cordelia managed a snort. "Sweetie, he really IS that bad." Douglas gave her a small shrug. "Okay, NOW, he's not that bad. At least when he's all soul-having." 

"Given the right girl, he could make her happy." 

Hazel eyes dimmed slightly, and Cordelia watched the vampire as he talked with Lorne. 

"Slap-happy," she muttered. A small, disconcerting twinge in her heart made her smile turn into a grimace, thoughts distracted as she dimly heard- 

"He's not the man for you. I can see that. But I sort of like him." 

"Do you?" Angel's hair hadn't changed. It was soft, gelled tufts, small strands that sometimes got loose and tickled at his ears. She used to play with those, usually in a post-sex coital, long fingernails sliding over his lobes, playing while he lay there, chocolate brown eyes dizzy with pleasure- 

"He's got a lot of charm." 

"Well, he comes by it naturally. His grandfather apparently tasted like a snake," she responded without thinking. 

She didn't quite realize Douglas was choking until he almost spit his coke all over the table.   
-- 

He returned to find Cordelia fawning all over the blonde Bimbo while the guy was snorting all over Lorne's table. 

"Something wrong?" 

Douglas flashed an 'okay' sign, gripping onto Cordelia as she smoothed a hand over his back. "Just takes some getting used to," he managed. 

"What?" 

"You," Cordelia snapped. Angel's mouth twitched slightly, but the hazel caught and held him, and in no mood to look away, he projected the very picture of innocence. 

"You can't be leaving so soon," he said. "We just got here." 

"And now, we're leaving," Cordelia said. "Doug's mother is waiting, and-" 

"His mother?" Angel blinked. "Your mother?" 

"Yes, Angel," Cordelia said, voice firm, edged in ice. Angel almost smiled. The inner-bitch in Cordelia had a spark that was captivating, particularly for a vampire. No other breed, human or demon, could every really appreciate that. "She's coming with us." 

Cordelia. Coddling this guy's mother. Right. 

"Wow, well, that's... great. I mean, I have to admit, I was a little worried there, you know- what with all the demons and all, but knowing that your MOTHER... that just relieves my mind." 

Douglas blinked, still confused as to whether that was a compliment or an insult, but the gleam had returned to Cordelia's eyes. She crossed her arms, a slight smirk on her face as she slipped on her leather jacket. 

"How cruel we were, Dougy, to let Angel suffer like that. Isn't he sweet?" she asked Douglas. "Even now, divorced and all, he's still just wants to protect me." 

Fake admiration or not, Angel still smiled widely, sheepishly shrugging his shoulders. Would an 'aww shucks' been too much? Judging by the 'murder-death-kill' look in Cordelia's orbs, he thought it might. "I admit, Douglas, I wasn't much of a husband, what with the always running off to save the world, and all, but, Cordelia knows she could always count on me." 

"Don't be so sure," Cordelia remarked. "Half the time I was protecting you." 

Again, her eyes locked with his, and a small shadow of a smile, almost invisible, but it was there, flashed across the bee stung lips. In her eyes, he could almost see the past, memories of their journey together, from Seers to Champions, heartache and turmoil, separations and reunions. 

Death and life. Hope and salvation. 

"No," he corrected softly. "Every minute, of every hour, you were saving me." 

The face was beautiful, but her eyes connected into his soul. 

"Well, umm... Angel, that's really sweet, but... I kinda think I can protect her just fine. All-State wrestling champ." Angel blinked, and suddenly HE was there, and the temptation to tear the head from the body was so overwhelming, he welcomed the dingy ringing of his cellphone. 

Reaching into his coat, he fumbled with it, flashing an apologetic smile, ignoring the flush of Cordelia's cheeks to press the damned little phone to his ear. 

"What!" he snapped. 

"Angel, not wanting to interrupt the social hour and crap, but can you fucking drop the asshole and come back?" 

The angry voice of Faith brought some measure of sanity, and fully aware of the two sets of gazes boring into his leather clad back, Angel raised his voice a pitch. 

"Wesley!? You can't do that-" 

"Wesley?! What the fuck are you talking about? This is Faith!" 

"Dammit, Wesley. We can't now! Not now! We need you to-" 

"Angel, what the fuck are you on?" 

"Dammit, Wes..." 

"Angel, if you don't get off your crack high right now, I'm going to find you and ram a stake so far up your ass it'll come out of your-" 

"Fine. Tell Fred we'll figure it out." He snapped the phone closed, exhaled a loud sigh. Cordelia cocked an eyebrow. Douglas just looked confused. Again. Angel sighed again. He stamped his foot for emphasize, pulled his hand into a fist and banged it on the table self righteously. Inching one eye opened, he checked to make sure they were still watching. 

Cordelia had her arms crossed. 'Nice try.' 

He covered his face with his hands as he slumped into his chair to keep from betraying the smile on his lips. 

"Is something wrong?" There was genuine concern in Douglas' voice. 

Angel let out another sigh for good measure, and slouched in the chair, voice strained and angry. "It's the case." 

"What's Wesley doing on it?" Cordelia's voice was flat. "He's not mediating, is he?" 

Angel glanced up, an incredulous look on his handsome features. "Who else would do it?" 

"Because the charger is Skip-" 

"I can't be involved," he acknowledged. 

"Standard trial procedure?" she asked again. 

"Locked and loaded- three oracles make the decision- presuming the Powers don't make the pardon." 

"And the plan is- Wait." She had to actually shake herself, grimace and pull herself away from the case. Angel noted it, hands itching to sit her down, soothe her trembling shoulders. Again, the anger came, frustration coupled with pain and aching hurt. She had been alive then, truly alive as the hazel glowed with news of the case. 

Why was she doing this to herself? 

"I don't want to know," she finally said. "I shouldn't..." 

Angel sat, suddenly focused on the fingers of Douglas, snaking around Cordelia's waist, pulling her in closer. "Why don't you tell ME about the case?" Douglas asked. "I'm finding it very interesting. And very confusing." 

Even the fiancé saw it, even if he was too stupid to understand what it meant. 

There was a voice in his head, a small one, that said it was wrong to mess with a decent guy who's only faults, it seemed, were having the IQ of a deer and being in love with Angel's wife. 

But he pushed it away easily enough. When push came to shove, vampires in love were never to be argued with. 

And vampires on a mission were even worse. 

--   


_End chapter_   
  
  



	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_"I'm not. - I know what I said earlier. - But I don't want the visions anymore. I tried to be brave. I did. But I'm just scared now. I'm scared all the time. I mean look at me! What could be *so* important that the Powers would do this? I just don't understand."_   
_- _Cordelia, That Vision Thing 

-- 

It was easier, when she didn't think. 

The table was slightly uneven under her manicured fingertips, she felt the scratches as she rubbed rhythmically against the wood, making a mental note to remind Lorne that tablecloths - especially linen - did a great job of hiding riot induced scars. 

Her hazel eyes traced every bite in the wood as Angel spoke, not daring herself to think about the significance of THIS mission, forcing herself to listen with a passive voice when the words came, quickly, rapidly. 

Her heart skipped slightly, an unwelcome testament to her all too human reaction to a mission she had long ago denied, and in an effort to push it away, she lay a gentle hand on Douglas' palm. 

And found it trembling. 

Ms. Cordelia Chase, ex-Higher Being and demoness extraordinaire, felt her previously liquefied spine ramrod into steel. Cordelia stared at Douglas, saw the utter confusion and the pure... strangeness of it all. 

Shit. Great, Cordy. Just great. Alienate the guy before you even hit the altar. 

"Sweetie, it's not all that confusing," she finally told him patiently. Next to her, Angel looked harried. He kept looking over his shoulder, as if he was late for something, and Cordelia felt no more need to waste time. All of this pettiness, the daggers in the backs and the glares seemed idiotic compared to what Angel was trying to do. 

He was trying to save a soul. Bethany's soul. 

"So... there are trials?" 

"Well, sweetie, it's like this." Cordelia squinted, pursing her lips as she shared a glance with Angel, searching for the best way to word it. "After the whole 'higher being' business, I came back to earth. The details don't really matter, but it's safe to say, it took a lot to get the trust back in the Powers." 

"Some of us never got over it," Angel remarked quietly, and she swallowed hard, ignoring the pointed look. 

"So, anyway," she said in breezy tone. "We got involved in a different kind of soul saving. Angel had a key, and one time we didn't quite like how things went, so... Angel used it." 

"A key?" 

"To a different dimension," Angel confirmed, fingers rubbing around a shot glass, swirling with red liquid. On his face was a scowl. "A 'higher' dimension." 

"It was an adventure and a half, but... we came to an understanding... After, Angel almost killed Skip-" 

"Skip?" 

"Her demon guide. Keep up," Angel barked. 

Douglas blinked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair at the sharp words, forcing Cordelia, caught in the middle of a glare with Angel, to turn her attention back to him. 

"Angel doesn't like him," she explained, an apologetic note in her tone. Her eyebrow arched and she shot Angel a glance. 'Behave,' she mouthed. 

"You wouldn't either, if he kept taking your damned wife," came the mumbled grumble. 

The best thing to do was ignore it. "ANYWAY, if we believe... umm... believed that a soul had been unfairly judge, we as ... 'lower key' beings, have the right to use a mediator to barter for the soul. It's really rare, and it's only happened a few times-" 

"More than a few." 

"More than a few?" Douglas repeated. 

"The first was a while ago... Angel championed a pregnant woman," Cordelia said, rifling through the memories quickly and effortlessly. Lorne appeared behind her, a warm hand placed companionably on her shoulder. Startled, she paused, glancing up. He smiled warmly. It was... new. Lorne was even better at holding grudges at hissy fits than she was. Still, Gift. Horse. Mouth. Not looking. 

"First time I met the studmuffin," Lorne volunteered. "Gave a nicely painful rendition of 'Mandy'." 

Even Cordelia couldn't stifle the burst of laughter that came with that memory. Angel's lips reluctantly pulled into a smirk, and Douglas' own grin was hesitant, as if stuck in the middle of a private joke he had no part of. Another stab of guilt slid through her like ice. 

This wasn't what she intended. No trips down memory lanes. No smiling over cute Angel anecdotes. Douglas didn't have to know it. He shouldn't have even known the little bit that was being shared. Eventually, he would get curious, and ask... 

"What the Princess is saying, Dougy-Boy," Lorne clarified, "is that there are certain cases where the Powers that Be might allow a Champion to go to bat for a wayward soul. This might be one of those times. Lots of people involved, prophecies, grudge matches... it could get ugly." 

"And with Cordelia... no longer involved and given my... history with Skip..." Cordelia blanched at Angel's hesitant remarks. History with Skip. It was almost a running gag at A.I., how Skip and Angel given the chance, would tear each other's heads off. "That only leaves Wes." 

"Wesley?" Cordelia blinked. "But he's not-" 

"He's trying." 

Cordelia's hazel eyes darkened, curiosity mingled with pure surprise. When did Wesley become a Champion? 

Douglas was focused on something else entirely. "You were a Champion?" he sounded almost awed. "You never said that, Cordelia." 

"Featured word, 'was', sweetie. It doesn't matter anymore," she said dismissively, concern overriding any urges to explain THAT part of this whole fiasco. "Wes can't handle a trial." 

"In hell, maybe," Lorne sighed, pulling out the seat beside Cordelia's and plopping himself down. "But that's not where the trials are taking place." 

"Where are they now?" 

"Because of Wolfram's claim, here." Lorne answered. 

Here. The trials were here?! That hadn't been done in years! "Angel-" 

"Under the post-office, where the Oracles were," he said quickly. "Converted into a courthouse for this occasion." 

"The Powers are fair, but not stupid." Lorne looked almost amused as he leaned back in his chair. His tone was calm, collected, as if he was talking about the weather forecast. 

"It doesn't matter. With Wes's record, the Powers won't listen in heaven, hell or earth." Angel's tone was dark, low, reminiscent of an animal in the way he eyed his drink. The look in his eyes was calculating. 

She remembered that look. She remembered everything, but that look always did something to her. No matter how many years past, Cordelia never, ever, ever forget that Angel was a vampire. So many people did, but she never did. Not when she married him. Not when she loved him, utterly and completely. He was still very much a vampire. 

She never minded. But she never forgot. The hidden danger, the glittered anger, the malicious smile, the penchant for blood... 

And she had loved him. So utterly. Completely. Despite that. Because of it. 

God... was she a mental case or what? 

"Guess we'll just have to go with my patented sudden burst of violence," he finally said, settling back. 

She had to roll her eyes. Some boys never changed. "Right. Cause THAT always works with these guys." she remarked flatly. A dark gaze met hers cocked eyebrow pointedly. "Umm... hello?" she responded, waving a manicured hand in the air. "Powers? Kinda all-seeing. They'd know if you'd break her out, and then good luck on getting a pardon." 

""Fair. Not stupid," Lorne repeated. 

Angel continued to stare, a defiant glare, stance insinuating that she was clearly getting on his last nerve. Tough cookies. Cordelia could give a rat's ass if she was emasculating him in front of dear ole' Doug-y. The stupid vamp was going about it all wrong. 

"Cordelia-" 

"Just listen. Pointers, from the old pro- mainly me. You have to convince the Powers that Bethany can be championed, that she's capable of being saved. Maybe made a champion herself." 

"The only way we can do that is to get an interview, and Skip's guarding her. He won't let me near her, and Wes' history with Wolfram and Hart-" 

A warm hand slipped into hers, pulled on it. Doug was trying to get her attention, but she only dimly felt the pull. Distracted, she squeezed back, and immediately turned her attention to Lorne. 

"Well, what'd she do? Maybe we could use it." 

"Nobody really knows. Your telekinetic Carrie still had a little bit of a violent streak, but... nice girl, read her soul once. From what I hear, pretty much almost killed another one of Skip's kids on a job. After losing you to him," Lorne indicated Angel. "I can understand a little hostility." 

"No reason to blacken her soul, or damn her." 

"Prophecy, sweet cheeks. Wolfram and Hart are jumping on it." 

"And, to top it off, she signed a contract," Angel interjected. 

Crap. "With the lawyers?" Cordelia gasped. 

"When she was living with Lilah all those years back. For an 'internship'." Frustration forced the unbreathing vampire to take in a mangled sigh, long fingers rubbing through silken strands of hair, almost disrupting his heavily gelled hairdo. 

Cordelia watched the action, letting the memory click into place. Bethany, scared and a runaway, years ago, living with Lilah, probably signing a contract while staying with her that could have been for anything, when in reality she had just sold her soul.... 

"Shit." 

"Yeah." 

"You have to get a witness of character stated. That's the only way you'll save her. Violence won't do anything but send a Warrior out and then there's no trial." 

"Cordelia, we don't HAVE a Champion to fill the role," Angel snapped. 

Douglas coughed, really loud. In fact... he had been doing that for a while now. Pulled back to the present, Cordelia took in a ragged breath and patted his shoulder. "You okay?" 

He looked almost relieved, and she couldn't figure out why. She wasn't really IGNORING him... 

And then she could have killed him. 

"Cordy... weren't... YOU-" 

"No," she said immediately, the pit dropping deep down into her stomach. Anvil City. No. No. NO. No way in hell. She was NOT a Champion. Angel's hot gaze was on her, and she never forgot he was a vampire, never at all. 

He could smell her agitation, hear her heartbeats... 

-- dark and sweaty, locked in a lover's embrace, cheek pressed against one breast, counting each heartbeat, chuckling as he joked he could make them double, triple in pace - 

She took in an unsteady breath, but deliberately turned her head, locked eyes, her resolution firm. 

"You could save her life, Cordelia," Angel said frankly. 

"Cordelia, we could take a later flight if it'll save an innocent woman's life..." 

No, no, no, no, no- 

"He's going to have to do this one without me." 

Lorne broke into the exchange, adding warmth into her incredibly cold words. 

"Sweetie, I hate to be the Devil's Advocate- 'cause frankly, that was Wesley's job, but... there is no one else." 

There had to be. She wasn't DOING this again. She had promised herself - 

-- sobbing when Angel found her, clutching him tightly as she damned the soul... forced to choose in a final test that she passed, bleeding and broken -- 

Oh, God. Cordelia closed her eyes, the silence suddenly overwhelming. There wasn't any way she could DO this now. This wasn't supposed to be a swinging anvil sending her back into the Higher Realms. 

This was supposed to be a fucking clean break. No visions. No powers. No trials. No tests. 

No tests. 

Three male eyes pinned her, and Cordelia squirmed, thoughts shuffling with images of Bethany... 

Scared. Alone. Damned. 

Her eyes fluttered open, and immediately, she saw Angel staring at her. 

Dark brown eyes. Pleading. Understanding. Silent. Knowing... 

Fuck you, Angel. 

She couldn't do it. She couldn't walk away from this one. Not Bethany. 

If anyone noticed the considerable moisture that had gathered in her eyes, or how she her voice seemed gravely and husky, no one dared mention it. 

"What's the commission on a benefits life insurance policy of a major detective agency, sweetie?" 

It was exactly the opposite of what everyone THOUGHT she was going to say. For a moment, there was only complete shock. Angel blinked, once. Douglas stared at her, slightly open-mouthed, not quite getting it at first. 

Lorne burst into a chuckle, shot glass hovering over his mouth. "Man, she's good," he almost sang. 

"It's... a lot of money, Cordelia, but..." 

A perfectly arched eyebrow cocked in Angel's direction. Eyes glinted with challenge as she sat back in her seat. "Well?" 

Angel hadn't moved. His fingers still thumbed over his glass of blood, swirling over the tip, gently, seductively. Dark brown eyes appeared almost black, and there was no smile on his face. There was no expression. 

"Sweetheart," the tone was low, dark and sarcastic, an imitation of her pet words for Douglas. "Have you forgotten that I'm already dead?" 

"Not you, dumb ass," Cordelia snapped. "Fred. Gunn. Faith. Connor-" 

"The entire Brady Bunch," Lorne mused, openly approving. Angel glared, but the happy Host only took another sip of his Seabreeze. 

"I negotiate the deal, I get an interview, I set up the plea. That's all. Those are my terms." Pure emotion rifled through her, flowing at a zephyr's pace. Adrenaline pumped in her veins and this was IT. 

One last 'screw you' to the Powers. One last jolt in her heart, one last mission. Just a little one. No character of witness. No soul saving. An interview and a plea. 

And a nice little nest egg to top it off, enough to move her and Douglas out of that damned garage apartment and into a house away from the quite wonderful Mrs. Gertrude Sanderson. 

Every nerve was tingling in expectation, like a track star waiting for the gun to sound off. 

It came with one word. 

"Fine," Angel said heavily, pushing away from the chair. 

Her world shifted, jolted back into place. She smiled. 

"Good," she answered, standing immediately, mechanically allowing Douglas to place her jacket over her shoulders, shrugging into the sleeves. "Douglas, get the paper work and meet Angel back at the hotel." Douglas, still a little mystified at the rapid arrangements, nodded hesitantly. "I want a certified check, Angel. I'll have my cell phone on. Call me when you get it, Douglas." 

"Okay, Cordelia-" 

"Angel, the bill." Cordelia shoved him the slip of paper. The vampire looked almost comical, staring at the small receipt. "NOW." He rolled his eyes, and when Lorne shrugged, he motioned, digging into his wallet as he moved toward the bar. 

She had a lot of crap to do, but she didn't forget Douglas. Cordelia took a breath, gathering herself, and turned to smile at her fiancé. Short nails ran up his shirt, and softly, she flicked a stray bang out of Douglas' eyes. He had beautiful eyes. "You're really gonna do this?" And he was smiling. 

"Don't get too excited, it's pretty routine," she said with a grin. "Listen, do me a favor." 

"Sure..." 

"Give me all your money." 

He blinked. "Huh?" 

"Sweetie, as much as you like Angel, the fact that he's a vampire, and you are marrying his ex-wife. He's up to something-" 

"Cordy, you don't think he's THAT shallow, do you. All he really wants is for you to be happy-" Douglas' faith in vampires was really very stupid, all things considered. Okay, not dumb... just very... innocent. 

"He'll take it. Get you in a card game. He sucks at cards, but he'll cheat-" 

"Well, you know I never gamble-" 

"Uh-huh. And if anyone had ever asked me before I met him if I would have willingly become a Night Light to save his pale ass I would have laughed in their faces. Now give me the money," she repeated. 

It amused him, even if his blue eyes darkened slightly. Her no nonsense attitude pleased him, and it gratified her. Chuckling, Douglas shook his head and leaned down, brushing his lips gently once with hers. "In my pants." 

Her grin was saucy, naughty as she slid long fingers into his jeans, squeezing his butt before coming out with his wallet, removing the bills, slipping them into her jacket, and returning the wallet back to his place. "Warm," she whispered. 

"You have no idea," he almost growled, gathering her closer. Eyes closed involuntarily as he kissed her again, and the heat of the kiss struck her. She'd never get used to it. Not when she was so used to cool lips. "Just be careful," she heard close to her ear. "It's all we have right now-" 

"Doug, you don't happen to have change for a twenty, do you?" The 'affectionate' slap on the back nearly sent Doug careening into the table, and she rolled her eyes. 

"See what I mean?" Kissing Douglas again, she moved past Angel. The contrast between the warm and cold bodies were amazing. Sex was different with a vampire than with a human... With a human things got so... hot... too hot. So warm... 

With vampires it was fire and ice, pleasure and pain... Douglas always did wonder why she had to do it with the air conditioner on. 

Great, Cordelia. Because this is a REALLY good time to think about sex. 

Taking in a controlling breath, she pulled her hand out of Douglas's and held it out to Angel. 

The vampire and Douglas both stared. 

"The key." 

Angel blinked, Douglas broke into a relieved grin, and Cordelia lost her patience. 

"You brought it, didn't you?" she asked flatly. 

Another smile, different than the ones he had been giving her all afternoon, drifted to his perfect lips. For a moment, just one, she saw Angel. Really saw him. 

It made her heart ache. 

"Yeah. I did," he said simply. The coin and the key were placed in her hand. Immediately, she shoved them into her jacket pocket, close to her breast. 

"Now GO," she ordered, pushing them away.   
  
Angel and Douglas obeyed, and she couldn't quite contain the smile of satisfaction as they moved toward the doors of Caritas, quickly and efficiently. 

No matter who the hell claimed ownership of Angel Investigations at one time or another, Cordelia had always been the boss. She knew it. They knew it. 

She rocked. 

"Leaving already?" Lorne asked, blazer spiffy and purple, as he broke in on her ego-trip. 

Eyes still on her departing fiancé and ex-husband, she shrugged. "Sure," she replied. "Aren't you coming?" 

She wasn't asking for much. Just a trip to another demon dimension to sneak past a guard and interview a person on trial for her soul. 

Lorne, sweet Pylean demon that he was, gave her a thousand watt smile that would have lit up all of Los Angeles. 

"Sweetie, wouldn't miss it for the world." 

-- 

Yeap. This was definitely going to be harder than he anticipated. 

Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan looked around the back alley of Caritas, feeling mildly out of place as he watched the Seer fit the key into the coin expertly, step back. 

The feeling of anticipation was mutual, he guessed. Though he wondered, tilting his head as she shot him a distracted smile, if she was as afraid of this as he was. 

Lorne had known Cordelia for a long time. He felt he knew her, sometimes better than even Angelcakes himself. And he knew, Brown Eyes wasn't ready, not for this. 

He had expected the break, had seen it coming. When everyone else, even the little Wild Child herself, had waited for Cordelia to return, unconsciously leaving her place open, he had closed his mind to it. 

How did a person come home, when she had no home to come to? 

Cordelia had no place in this world, and that was her problem. For years, she had been pulled in different directions, like a seesaw, a slinky. Twisted and turned, and no one had seen it coming but him. 

Stress marred the pretty eyes, and Lorne strongly suspected that if it wasn't for the whole demon aspect, Cordelia would have had quite a few wrinkles by now. She had issues, and flying off to live in Maine with her Malibu Ken Doll wasn't going to do anything to solve it. 

As screwed as Angel was about all this, he was right about one thing: Cordelia belonged to the mission, and the mission belonged to her. 

He didn't say a word as Cordelia took a deep breath. He never mentioned that he saw her hands openly trembling so much she dropped the coin twice. When she flashed him an insecure glance, he only nodded and smiled. 

When the coin dropped, and the ring twisted, he saw the portal open, and immediately followed, feeling the familiar pull as Cordelia held his hand and led him into her world. 

Into the world of the Higher Beings. 

Into the world she hated. 

And hey, after what he knew... 

Who could say he blamed the kid? Not after that. Not after what they did- 

The swirl was large and round, luminous, almost beautiful, and in a flash they were there. Darkness, pain... the prison dimension. 

"Nice," he commented, craning his neck as he inspected the torches and cave-like walls. "Very into the earth-y tones. Nothing says 'prison' like a good musty 'caca' tone." 

His own laughter was never reciprocated. Unsure, Lorne turned, and immediately the laughter caught in his throat. Cordelia's palm was gripped tightly in his, and he now knew why she had implied he come. 

He shut up. This would be the hardest thing. Her uneven breathing, her heart skipping rapidly, all gave away Brown-Eyes near panic. 

Lorne didn't do a thing but wait for the memories to stop, for Cordelia to get a reign on her reality. 

There was nothing else he could do. 

-- 

_Her eyes had grown pure white, that day. Silver orbs that glistened as she stood, deep within the heart of what some would call heaven, others would call hell.___

_She had been alone. Her champion was a fighter, his strength in his fists, in his dead, unbeating heart, and he had no place here. This was a place for higher beings, a tomb almost, for those supernaturally inclined.___

_In the bright light, she could barely see. She was unable to tear her eyes from the form before her.___

_"She has grown weak," came the response.___

_Heartbeats pounded inside her ribcage, a betrayal. In here, she was not allowed to be human. In this cage, she was a higher being, a creature objective and above love, above hate.___

_"I'm not weak," she whispered, but it wasn't true. She was all too human, a disappointment to the beings who created her. The ring on her finger burned, bright light forcing the metal to sear, but the pain was nothing.___

_This was nothing.___

_Dark eyes of panic and fear bore into hers, a young man with hands tied behind his back before, pleading.___

_"The choice must be made."___

_A large lump that was incredibly hard to swallow caught her whisper, her near plea. Her witness was essential, her testimony was fact.___

_He had killed. In cold blood. Future prophecies revealed that this young man, if chosen, would create chaos, evil. Circumstance or chance, it was not something they were willing to allow to happen.___

_"Cordelia." The voice was a snap, angry and significant, and even now, it made her shudder. "You're stalling."___

_Sudden anger forced the words out, flashing hazel eyes pinned the demon guide. "You're damned right I'm stalling!" Cordelia turned. It was so much easier to focus on the grey demon, so much easier to look into his soulless eyes than to stare into the one of the mortal. "I won't make this decision. I won't damn him."___

_His large fingers moved into fists, and she could tell, Skip did not understand. His life was for the Powers. His loyalty was to the Powers. It was all he knew, despite the numerous references to popular culture.___

_"You know what he did."___

_"I also know why he did it."___

_"It was not his decision to make."___

_"Then what makes it mine?" She was shaking now, bright light getting whiter, eyes now devoid of any speck, of any trace of color. All she saw was black and white - no grey, no purple, no red.___

_"You made this choice. You understood the ramifications-"___

_"I understood nothing! I didn't sign up for this!" The bright light grew brighter, and the human before her now shut his eyes, almost crying from the brightness. "I won't damn a soul- you can't make me."___

_He was getting more and more frustrated. Skip's jaw was tight, the Powers above her were eerily quiet. There was nothing in this room. Nothing but brightness and light. Nothing but the soul - eternity hung in the balance.___

_"You left to join Angel," he said finally. "We let that happen. The world needs his champion. Fine. You defied orders and you MARRIED him. Bound yourself to a figure-"___

_"How is that wrong? What's wrong with living?" Her hands pushed and suddenly Skip stumbled back. "How can you live without a soul, Skip? How can you understand-"___

_"Cordelia-"___

_"We save lives, we save souls, but we aren't allowed to love. What we do 'transcends' love. And there's something seriously wrong with that, Skip. It's WRONG." she pleaded now, desperate for him to understand. "Nothing should take the place of love, if you don't have it, what else do you have?"___

_"Cordelia, if you don't know that, you'll never truly attend your higher calling." The tone was almost ashamed. Disappointment was etched in Skip's face, stone cold indifference to her tears.___

_He was coddling her.___

_Clarity came in that single glance, in his glare.___

_"This is another test," she whispered.___

_He stood silent. The Powers were silent.___

_"MY GOD!" her eyes closed and the tears stung, hot and searing from her glow. "THIS is a test? My witness? Damning a soul?"___

_"You know what he'll do."___

_"He hasn't done it yet."___

_"He's an evil soul."___

_"We don't KNOW that-"___

_"Yes. You know. You know it."___

_They wanted her words. Her confirmation. Her knowledge that with her witness, she would damn him to hell. A man who had killed for love, who's entire life hung in the balance of 'maybe'.___

_Moisture etched into her orbs, and it cooled her.___

_"I'm tired, of tests, Skip," she suddenly said, turning back to the young man. "Everyone has a limit."___

_"You are a higher being-"___

_"SCREW that. If that's what it takes, I'm staying in the lower dimension."___

_"Cordelia, you've outgrown it. You're never satisfied and you know why."___

_Satisfied? She almost laughed. How on earth could she be satisfied? She never had enough time to try to be. There was always a vision, always a soul, always a LIFE that was ahead of her own.___

_"Time's running out. You must choose."___

_The anger boiled over, her mind filled with Angel. Fred, and Gunn and Faith and Wesley. Lower beings. Lower beings who loved and sacrificed and saved.___

_Her eyes shot up to the brightness, for once unafraid of it. "And you?!" she shouted to the Powers. "What's YOUR take? Open up your damned mouths and SAY SOMETHING!"___

_"Cordelia."___

_"FUCK YOU, Skip." They were Faith's words, and they came from Cordelia's mouth with conviction. "I choose to fail." She turned, away from the young man, away from the decision, away from the test.___

_"You walk away from this, Cordelia, you walk away from the mission." Skip's voice halted her steps. "You choose not to damn this soul, you sacrifice the lives of countless others. He's tasted evil. He will kill again. He WILL conjure the forces. Everything that has meant anything will go away. Your mission will mean nothing."___

_The mission. All of this, for the mission. Her life, given away, her heart deadened - for the mission.___

_It was the mission that had brought her here. It was the mission that had made her a higher-being. It was the mission that forced her to leave Angel.___

_It was the mission that forcing her to do this.___

_The damned mission.___

_In one second, faith died. Cordelia looked around, saw what she had become, and hated herself. It was only one second. But it was enough.___

_Eyes cold as slate, sudden hate that seemed anything but 'higher', filtered through an icy glare.___

_"Then damn him," she whispered suddenly. "Damn him, and damn you."___

_Her demon guide looked almost apologetic. For a small sliver in time, she saw regret, sorrow, but his faith in his mission overwhelmed the empathy, and he nodded.___

_He got what he wanted, the Powers, eerily silent, got what they wanted.___

_And Cordelia Chase damned a soul.___

_She passed their test.___

_They failed hers.___

_She stood, silent, as the boy was dragged away. The white light grew brighter, brighter, and inside her, there was nothing.___

_Brightness faded away to darkness. Feet now stood on gravel, silence gave way to crashing waves. As quickly as they needed her, as quickly as they had taken her, they discarded her, back to her life, back to live with what she had done.___

_When Angel found her, she was on her knees. Tears dripped from her cheeks, sobbing pools at her feet. A soul wracked with pain in the Seer caused the crack, and when his hand touched her shoulder, she flinched away, falling to the ground and clutching at her heart.___

_She could still hear the cries. She could still feel the hate._

-- 

"Brown Eyes?" 

From somewhere, almost out of her realm of hearing, she felt his presence. 

"Cordelia." 

She trembled, a low whimper slid out of her, and her chest once again constricted, the cold iron in her soul almost painful. 

She opened her eyes. 

"Yes, Lorne?" she asked softly. 

"You okay?" He looked truly concerned. 

A small, grim smile slipped onto her features. 

"Never better," she quipped. "Let's go." 

_End chapter_   
  
  



	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

_If I ever meet those Powers that Be I'm just going to... PUNCH them! In the nose! ... Do you think they have a nose?_ - Cordelia, To Shanshu in LA   
-- 

Winnifred Burkle was by nature an optimistic woman, despite the somewhat psychotic bouts of rage, and even SHE thought it was kinda weird, that she was still so... cheery after all this time. 

Gunn always told her it was sweet, and one time, when the world seemed so dark she thought she would drown from the depth of the blackness, he had held her, and whispered that it was the only thing that kept him from going insane. 

Her ability to hope for the best, to believe in the wonderful nature of the human being, despite her own jaded personality, especially when they had seen just how evil some human beings could actually be, was an original thing, considering the company she kept. 

Fred lived in a world of 'jadeds'. That's what she called them. 'Jadeds'. 'Cause that's what they were. Jaded people, cynical and bitter, with jaded personalities and jaded thoughts and seeped anger that infected their minds and their hearts. They didn't really KNOW that that's how she thought of them, but it made sense to her. 

Sitting in the office, watching Angel as he peered through the blinds, she studied her group of Jadeds. There was Faith, black denim and a strappy tanktop pulled tight over her body, tattoo etched over her biceps, her signature scowl on her face as she lounged in a wooden chair. Her Jaded came from her station: a Chosen One who was really just the 'Left Over One'. Faith, who never really anyone before, became a Slayer when there was already a Slayer, and searching for a path, had spiraled into darkness. 

Now, she hung by her buoy, her place at Angel Investigations. She was a 'Slayer', but no one ever dared mention it. Fred had asked her why she never talked about it, and Faith had only responded she didn't know what a Slayer was anymore, and didn't give a damn. 

Fred's fingers tangled into her lap. One Jaded. In the lobby was another Jaded. Connor. A young boy whose life was stolen by a man he loved as he was taught to hate a father who hated himself and loved his son with all the passion a vampire could give. He believed he deserved anger, deserved hatred, and until recently, deserved to hate his father. 

She managed a soft smile, broken and bitter. Connor would never see the world with innocent eyes. When he stumbled on something new, he immediately thought of its danger, its hidden meanings, how it might hurt him. He would never view something with the eyes of a child, happy and surprised at the unknown. 

A warm hand curled around her slim shoulder and squeezed. Immediately her smile turned soft, as her hand stole up to cover Gunn's. Her Jaded. A young man who had once believed his life meant so little, he had sold his soul for a truck. With no air conditioning. Her Jaded was a big tall bear who growled, and his bite was as bad as his bark, but his eyes occasionally lit up. When he smiled, there was never a light more beautiful. It was in him that she realized her hope stemmed. In her Jaded there was an inner light that shown, a strength that came so easily, because he loved her. And if she looked hard enough, she saw the Jadeds' hope as well. 

"Done?" she asked. 

"Yeah. Checked out, clean bill of health. But no one's told me why we're all doin' this." Charles looked perplexed, cocked eyebrow comically out of place on his dark face as Faith shrugged. 

"Beats the hell out of me," she replied. "That's a hell of a lot of money to spend on one damned prissy Seer." 

"Cordeila's not prissy!" The outburst suddenly caused Fred to become the focal point of everyone in the room, and still unused to the attention, she colored, blushing as Faith smirked. "Well, she's not," Fred responded, shuffling under the Slayer's dark gaze. "She's ... feminine, and if this is how we're going to get her back-" 

"We're doin' this to get her back?!" Charles blinked, shifting his glance now to Angel's form. The vampire was still staring out the window at Douglas and Connor. "Wait, wait. Lemme get this right. We're plying Cordy's man with dough, and THAT'S the plan? Tell me he's crazy." 

"I'm not crazy," Angel said automatically, squinting. "I'm stalling. There's a difference." 

Angel, of course. A jaded vampire with a soul who had loved and lost, and loved and lost, and loved and lost again. He was notorious for loving and losing, and as a result had come to hold onto anything he cared for so desperately he somehow smothered them and let them slip through their fingers. 

"Think harder," Faith said lazily. "'Cause this shit with Bethany is running out on us and the last thing we have time for is playing doctor with Malibu Ken." 

"She's leaving in two hours. Do you have any better ideas?" 

Faith shrugged, grimacing, turning so she was suddenly twisted into her seat, legs crossed in an almost lotus position. Fred blinked. Faith was so ... flexible. Glancing dubiously down at her own legs, she considered attempting the same position, until she heard the Slayer's suggestion. 

"We could always pretend to bomb the airport." 

Fred's mouth dropped slightly. 

"Could we?" And Angel was seriously considering the idea. He had on his 'broody' thinking face, pensive as he stared at the Slayer. He was actually... he couldn't really think that- 

Fred squinted, her stomach dropping as the conversation suddenly turned... weird. 

"Sure. Or even just make a call. Scare people enough to stop all the planes-" 

"With security the way it is?" Charles GUNN! Of all people, he would think that maybe this was just not the best way to- 

"Black bag in the middle of the terminal." 

"They wouldn't let you or me in without searching, Faith." 

"Yeah, but Connor-" 

"GUYS!" Fred's face was beet red and her heart was near to exploding. "You can't plant a BOMB in LAX!" 

It was two Fred outbursts in less than five minutes, and once again, everyone was staring at her, but Fred did NOT care. 

"Aww, Freddie, it's just a little one," Faith had a full on grin widening on her lips. 

"Shut up, Faith. Now, I want Cordy back as much as the rest of you, but don't you think we could find something a little less... ILLEGAL AND WRONG AND-" 

"Okay, okay. No bomb. We wouldn't have done it, Fred," Angel muttered. "Really," he insisted when her eyes narrowed dubiously. "But at least it was an idea. Any other suggestions?" 

Fred huffed, crossing her arms and sending her gaze heavenward in silent imploration. 

"Well, I told Angel I'd seduce the bastard-" 

The slamming of the door brought Faith's sentence to a sudden halt. 

"Pardon?" 

Fred knew that voice, it was unmistakable. Turning slowly, she felt her heartbeat thud and an uneasy squirm in the bottom of her stomach. 

Wesley Wyndham Price had returned. 

-- 

A hell dimension was surprisingly cold. 

Sure, there were hot spots, unbearable places of heat, but mostly it was just cold. Callous. Lonely. 

It was the loneliness that Cordelia largely suspected got to people in here. It wasn't just the pain, the agony, but the knowledge that there was nothing in here, no one that really cared about you. 

That was the real hell. The rest was just sour cream on top of the taco. 

'Sour cream on top of the taco'? Cordelia grimaced, the words leaving a sour taste in her mouth. One minute with Fred and the girl already had her spouting about food. Shaking her head, Cordelia couldn't resist a slight smirk. 

Beside her, Lorne walked a bit unsteadily, hand tucked into the pocket of his bright blazer, red eyes staring unsurely around the corridor. 

"I know," she responded immediately, hand skimming one rocky, clammy wall. "Ugly." 

"And then some," he muttered. "Spend a lot of time here, sweet cheeks?" 

Squelching the urge to ask Lorne which cheeks he meant, Cordelia responded. "Only during the interviews. You know the drill. Angel came in once, but I had to take over. I was too afraid that Powers would just get fed up with his little bursts of violence and keep him in here." 

Lorne chuckled, a grim sound that ended as soon as it had begun. Walking in companionable silence, Cordelia worked out her game plan, taking a minute to prepare herself, before she turned the corner, and completely froze. 

Crap. 

"Especially," she breathed, "Considering who has decided to take the sentry duty." 

Standing at the entrance was a demon. He was a drab color, not very much color to him at all. His skin was... not there. He wore mostly an exo-skeleton, had more than one mouth, and he was big. Very big. 

"Ah. Skip." Lorne seemed almost out of breath as he caught up. Whether that was due to nerves or actual exhaustion, Cordelia didn't ask, or care. "So... how are we going to- Cordelia?" 

Her feet were already moving, crunching on the gravel. Even in the barely lit corridor, her rage was unmistakable. Leather jacket, skirt and pumps, Cordelia strode forward, hazel eyes glinting as the demon Skip turning in her direction, and froze. 

"Cordy!" he sounded jubilant. "Well, if this isn't a surprise, I don't know what-" 

She slapped him. Soundly. 

Cordelia's arms were crossed, eyes narrowed and head tilted as she waited for Skip to recover. A gasp emerged from behind her, it had to be Lorne's, but she paid it no attention, eyes only on Skip. 

Her ex-Demon Guide ruefully massaged at his face. "I hate when you do that." 

"THAT was for the crowbar. Don't think I didn't hear about it." 

"He lived, didn't he?" her former demon guide muttered. "And besides, why should you care?" 

"Old habits die hard." 

The glare he gave her would have wilted anyone else, but Cordelia knew Skip, and even as she smacked him on his other mouth, missing his shoulder, she had to fight to contain the smile on her face at the sight of the guy. The small, almost sheepish grin on the big Warrior tipped the scale, and the scowl slipped off her face, giving way to a real grin, twitching on the edges of her mouth. 

"Hi." 

"Come 'ere, you crazy loon," he said affectionately, gathering her close for one very uncomfortable hug. 

"Oww- spike." Cordelia's cheek was plastered against one very hard bony plate of a chest and it... well, it hurt. Pushing against him, she gave a slight 'oomph', before finally managing to break free. Geez. Bear hug, much? Trying vainly to reposition her mussed hair, Cordelia took in a breath, attempting to recover from rather painful show of affection. "Uh... Lorne, you remember Skip, right?" 

"Indeed I do, Poodle," he said, coming forward and airily shaking the taller demon's hand. "Quite a grip on you, Skip." 

"The Aura Reader. Been a long time. Nice ensemble. I prefer muted colors myself." 

Glancing down at his attire, Lorne could only give a polite shrug and a carefree smile. "I know what you mean. Part of the reason I like to go a bit cheerful. Throws people off." 

Two demons discussing clothes. Could there BE anything scarier? 

The wall underneath her shoulders was quickly getting cold and clammy. Cordelia pushed off of it, squaring her shoulders and snapping her fingers to get their attention. 

"Still here, guys." 

"And yes- What's the occasion?" Skip was grinning merrily, and Cordelia was grateful. Obviously, some of the badness of the past was water under the bridge to him, and despite the twinge of bitterness in her heart, she could understand the giddiness. There was history here. They were friends... despite the Angel factor. And the abandonment factor. And the continual slaps in the face. 

"I need a favor." 

"Anything. Just name it." 

"I need to see Bethany." 

"Anything but that." As quickly as the grin slid on, it came off. His tone sharp and angry. The change was immediate, and intimidating. Skip was a dangerous guy, and Cordelia could feel Lorne noticing it, when he moved a bit closer to her, slightly behind. 

"Just an interview." 

"Only Champions allowed, Cordelia." Skip's eyes narrowed, much in the way they usually did during their spats, the 'don't-mess-with-me,I'm-on-to-you-and-your-vampire-hubby-who-I-hate' look. 

"What, my dues expired or something?" she asked pointedly. 

He was quiet, an intense stare directed at her that made the demon look angered, mean, something she was almost sure he wasn't. The thing with Skip: he was loyal only to the Powers, and she had come to learn that it was a matter of trust with him when it came to her own future: namely, she didn't. 

"No." 

"She needs a witness. You know the trials." 

"And I know you're the last person in earth, heaven or hell who would want the job." 

"What'd she do to you, honey bunch?" Lorne's query was almost casual, hand casually spread to palm against a rock, studying it methodically. "You've got a bit of a personal stake in this." 

"Stay out of this, Aura Boy." 

"Boy, he's mean when he's riled." 

"You haven't seen anything yet." And she meant it. Her eyes pinned her old Demon Guide to the wall, eyebrow raised suggestively, and for once, she let the memories come, pointedly making her gaze tell what her words could not. 

He remembered her stubborn streak way too well. 

True to form, Skip looked almost uneasy, turning a slighter shade of blue, before suddenly blurting, "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Cordelia." 

"Oh?" she feigned innocence, batting eyelashes and battling the smirk on her face. "What am I doing?" 

"Using this guy, bringing him in here." 

"Who, Lorne?" she blinked, turning to eye her friend. "He missed me so much he came with me to spend more time with me." 

"We're bonding. I would have preferred an illicit love affair, but you know... she's engaged and all that." The Pylean demon looked remarkably at ease, eyes sparkling with a hidden amusement that told Cordelia he was quick learner. It was almost nostalgic. 

Turning back, she cocked her head. "So? You know the rights. You know the rules. I'm going in." 

"What does it matter to you?" he demanded quietly. "I thought you were out of this." 

"I don't want to live with my mother-in-law." 

It was a confusing sentence. Skip took a half second to process it, before deciding it was easier to just ignore it, and continue to bluster. 

"Cordelia-" 

"You don't want me to live with my mother-in-law, do you, Skip? You being, a really great friend and all. You've been wanting me to get away from Angel for years, right?" 

"Yes, but-" 

"And doing this last job will get me lots of money, and I'll need that if I'm going to start my new life away from my evil vampire husband. You want that, don't you-" 

"Cordelia-" 

"And being as I've never been a tattle tale, you wouldn't want me to suddenly develop diarrhea of the mouth and remind your superiors about that time you visited the best little Whorehouse in Los Angeles when you were SUPPOSED to be helping Angel, would you?" 

Sudden silence. 

She felt almost smug. Higher being or not, it paid to be a bitch. 

Lorne whistled, an admiring gesture that made Skip glare behind her, sending the scatching patented icy stare in his direction. 

She waited patiently. 

Three... two... One. 

"Five minutes." 

"Love you." 

"Shut up." 

"Keep him company, Lorne," she said sweetly, winking as she walked around Skip, and into the jail, the smiling falling from her face almost immediately. 

-- 

Fred didn't miss the Kool-Aid smile that passed on Faith's features, akin to something along the lines of a Cheshire Cat as Wesley stepped into the office. 

Fred swallowed hard. Jaded Number - oh, she lost count. Four? 

Wesley was always Wesley to her. He would always be Wesley to her: a good man. A man with values. A man who sometimes wore glasses and had dark blue eyes, who wore a mantle of responsibility and underneath the ever hardening exterior, a heart of gold. 

But even Fred had to admit that Wesley had changed. Roughness graveled his voice and dark blue eyes now looked even darker, more piercing. The glasses were gone, in favor of contacts, leaving open a scowled face that was naked. A five o'clock shadow on the tanned bronzed face did nothing to hide the etched scar on running from his ear to his chin. 

It hurt Fred, somewhere deep down inside, when she saw it. And even still, she couldn't help but feel the relief, even with the apprehension. Wesley had explored, delved into darkness, experimented, experienced true evil - 

But he was still Wesley. 

Somehow. 

"Hey, dog," Gunn said, voice affectionate, but guarded. 

Fred turned back, suddenly aware of the fact that Wesley, at that moment, had eyes for no one but Faith. The Slayer in question was currently locked into a heated gaze with her former Watcher. As always, it fascinated Fred. The way Faith's arms curled around the chair, the way she seemed to tremble just a little bit at the sight of him. The way she always seemed to breathe with her mouth open, like she needed a little bit more air when she was seeing Wesley. 

And the forced carelessness in her voice when she spoke, like she had to convince herself that he was no different, talking to him was just like talking to anyone else. "I was just telling Angel that I wouldn't mind seducing Cordy's fiancé." 

"I see." Wesley, a former employee of Wolfram and Hart, had hooded eyes, a deepened tone, and he was now two feet away from Faith, looking down at her with a frown. "Do you believe you could?" 

"Fuck yeah. I seduced you, didn't I?" 

Fred had to roll her eyes. How many times were they going to go through this? Sexposition. Nice. 

The tip of Wesley's mouth quirked, just once. "I seem to recall I seduced you." 

Even Angel got bored, turning his gaze away, preferring to continue to peek through the blinds again. 

"You just keep saying that, Wes." Faith's chuckle was low. "Just remember who you're working for now." 

Right, Fred remembered that. It had been a long and crazy game, and Cordy had still been here when it went on. Faith and Wesley both set on seducing each other to bring the other to their side, and she had to hand it to Faith. She was right. She had won that one. 

Kinda. 

And Wesley knew it. He never said a word about it, and he didn't admit it now. Instead, Wesley arched an eyebrow, his glare dark and vivid. "So this is the plan, Angel?" he called out, never taking his eyes away from Faith's own irises. 

"I don't see anything wrong with it," she murmured, still a foot away. Neither moving closer. 

"*snort*Getaroom*cough*" Fred sighed, tangling her fingers with Gunn's. Subtle, but clear. She loved her big old bear. 

Faith and Wesley, as usual, ignored them both, too involved in their mind swapping games of cat and mouse. 

"Neither do I, except perhaps if he lays one finger on you, I'll kill him my bloody self," Wesley said finally. 

And Faith grinned. An actual grin that accented cheekbones and brought a face that was weary and tired alive with beautiful giddiness. 

Morons. Fred sank into her wooden seat. Romance at Angel Investigations. Talk about being screwed. 

"See?" Faith turned away from her lover, palm up in a resigned wave. "Problem solved." 

"Killing him won't bring Cordelia back, Faith," Angel said, snapping the blinds shut. 

"Plus it being wrong to kill a human and all THAT," Fred said indignantly. "Geez. Have you guys forgotten we're the good guys?" 

She got patronizing grins from all three of them. Sighing, she cradled her cheek against Gunn's palm. He patted her softly. "I need Cordy back," she muttered. "SHE would at least pretend to go by the book." 

"Did you get the check?" Angel asked, moving toward Wesley, staring expectantly. 

Wesley nodded immediately, pulling from his pocket a small rectangular piece of paper. "It's a lot of money, Angel." 

"Don't worry about it, Wes." 

"I will." Wesley's tone was hard, as it usually was now, but Angel only smiled. 

Fred supposed she could have been grateful for that. They weren't friends, not yet, but they respected each other. Took care of each other. All for the love of two women. 

Love was a very powerful thing. 

"Did he see you?" 

"No, I came in through the basement," Wesley said, striding with him to the blinds, peeking through. He studied a minute. "Good Lord. Reminds me a bit of that actor chap..." 

"Yeah... you know, I thought that too..." 

"Matt Damon," Fred chirped in. 

"You know what to do?" Angel asked. 

Wesley Wyndham Pryce, thirty-four, shot a glance to his girlfriend, pulled at the four hundred dollar tie he wore, and smiled. 

He must have noticed Fred's shiver, because the smile he gave her was different. Warm. 

She finally allowed herself to breathe. 

"We'll behave, Fred," he said. 

"Somewhat," Angel said. Turning back to Fred and Gunn, he ordered, "Get a status update on the trial." 

"What about you, dog?" Charles asked, and Fred looked from him to Angel, curious--and not just a little frightened—as well as to what Angel's itinerary might involve next. 

Angel blinked. "It's my turn," he stated simply, as if that explained everything. 

Faith and Wesley, already moving towards the basement exit, halted and turned back. 

"Your turn for WHAT?" asked Wesley, eyes narrowing. 

Angel blinked again. "A check up, of course." 

"A--wh-what?" Fred stuttered, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. 

"Check up," Angel repeated, gesturing towards the lobby. "Can't very well not include myself in this policy, now can I?" 

-- 

It was way too dark in here. 

Cordelia wrinkled her nose, taking in the acrid smell of sulpher in the air. It was nauseating, but she had long ago learned to ignore it, focus her mind on other things, and she did so now. 

Bethany... the last time she had seen Bethany had been years ago. Angel had saved her, and Cordelia had remembered why. She sometimes sorted her memories, not by time, or by feelings, but by visions, and this one came back, loud and clear. Pre-demon days, pre-highlights, pre-Darla: telekinesis, a scared girl running through an alley, hick clothes on a skinny frame, eyes wide with fear, heart pounding with emotion, and for just a split second: rage. Pure, homicidal, rage. 

She smooshed those guys with a garbage bin. 

Cordelia hadn't trusted her. She had liked her, because it was kinda hard not to like the semi-deranged psycho telekinetic earnest girl. She was like a wounded puppy, unsure how to act around Cordelia, unsure how to act around Angel. 

Of course, the chick had issues. Her father had been a serious sicko, and Cordelia had gotten a telekinetic shot of a nail in her arm for her trouble, but she and Angel had gotten through. Somehow, Bethany had reached a point where there was no going back, and left Wolfram and Hart, intent on starting a new life. 

She had voiced it wasn't a good idea to leave, Angel had agreed, offering more help, asking Bethany to stay a while, learn to control her powers, but Bethany, head strong and, yes, just a little stupid, flashed a big, hopeful smile as she tossed her duffel bag over her shoulder and shook her head. 

"I know where I'm going, Angel. Don't know how I'll get there, but thanks to you, I'm sure I'll enjoy the ride." 

They had lost track of her after that. Lost in Darla, lost in Connor, lost in the affecting age that the years had on all of them, but Cordelia, somewhere, in the back of mind, when she contemplated on memories, on the visions of her lives, had wondered about the girl who had been so incredibly scared, where she had ended up. 

She now had her answer. She had ended up here. 

Taking a breath, she found the dark entrance of the cell, passing her palm over the rocky outcrop, muttering a soft spoken command, some ancient language she ALWAYS managed to mangle, and the bare concrete looking wall disappeared to reveal a young girl with her head buried between her palms, sitting in the corner of a darkened cell, still and alone. 

A lost soul. 

"Bethany." 

The red-haired Bethany, thinner than she remembered, started, turning her head and whipping around to focus those intense orbs on her. She shivered, just once, before nodding shakily, wary and unsure. 

"Cordelia," she responded, to her credit, tone much easier than Cordelia expected. Slightly hostile, defensive. "Been a while." 

"Yeah, it has. Years." Cordelia was quiet, hazel gaze roving over the cell, trying once again to get her bearings, step away from her reactions, and analyze. Moving forward, she found the old metal chair that Skip must have left behind, and sank down on it, studying the girl. "Heard you went all stupid and got into some trouble." 

Okay, not the most diplomatic thing to say, but it had the right reaction. The little spark that Cordelia hoped to see was there, flashing in Bethany's eyes as the girl's shoulders squared defensively, and she tossed her head back, proud and mad. "I'm not stupid," she blurted out, hands twitching, "I'll get myself out." 

"Oh? And how will you do that?" The silence that followed was almost comical. Bethany honestly tried to think of an answer, almost as if she had to come up with one at that second, in order to save face with Cordelia. 

"Well... I'll find a way. I WILL," she insisted when Cordelia shook her head, running hands through brown strands and pursing her lips. "And what are YOU doing in here anyway?" 

"Bethany, I'm slightly hurt you haven't kept in touch," the Seer responded, smiling tightly. 

"What? You have a vision or something?" 

"Try, or something," Cordelia said stiffly. "I'm vision free at the moment, thank God." 

"Thank God," Bethany sputtered. "He's the reason I'm in this shit." 

"The reason you're in this 'shit', is because you're a very stupid, very wild, little girl who should known better than to try to kill two of the good guys-" 

"I didn't! And you know that! That Skip guy is totally blowing smoke up your ass and-" 

"Bethany, shhh." Clearly, this was the wrong approach. Bethany was jittery and angry, and in complete belief of her innocence. That was good. Raising a hand, Cordelia let her palm brighten up some, a special effect that made Bethany falter, stop. One reassuring smile, courtesy of the Cordelia Chase School of Acting, was pulled onto her lips, and a motion, made Bethany come closer, lean against the bars. 

"What the hell happened to you?" 

"Long story," Cordelia answered, tight and gentle. She remembered now, what worked with Bethany. The truth, in short doses. This conversation was going to be as simple as her earlier one with her, when she had warned telekinetic abusee not to 'bone' her boss. "But we're not talking about me, now. We're talking about you." 

Bethany swallowed hard, a softened tone now lilting from her lips in an emphatic sigh. "I didn't... Cordelia, I didn't mean for it to happen the way it did. It wasn't me... it's this twisted ass world, ya know?" 

"Sure," Cordelia responded, leaning forward as she dug into her leather jacket, fishing around. "You know, they're thinking of trying you as insane." 

"I'm NOT." Bethany's fingers shook slightly, hair dirty and mussed from her stay in the cave. "I'm fucking sane, Cordelia. I swear. I just didn't mean to..." 

"Okay... relax, okay?" Finally, she found what she was looking for. Pulling a box of cigarettes into her palm, she held them up, lighting her hand slightly so Bethany could see what she held. "Want one?" 

They were reserves, old and from her more stressed out days, when she succumbed to the dangers of nicotine. Eyes narrowed, slightly surprised, Bethany shook her head slightly, turning her gaze back to her hands. Cordelia took a stick herself, and stuffed the package back into her pocket, keeping Bethany's reaction carefully in her mind. 

"So tell me what happened," she said casually. "Without freaking out." 

"I just..." Bethany took a breath, flashed a grim smile, and nodded. "It was just... I was broke, right? And didn't have much money, and... well... this whole thing I have with the moving... Ever since I've learned to control it, it's been easy to get money by just... getting stuff for people." 

"You mean stealing." Bethany shot her a guarded look, but Cordelia only shook her head. "Don't. I'm not going to go all judgmental on you, but just state things how they are." 

There was a long silence as Bethany regarded her, but Cordelia kept her gaze level, and eventually, the girl nodded. "Yeah. Stealing. It's easy enough, and... easy money." 

"So, someone had you stealing from these two?" 

"A guy. I didn't know who he was with. I kinda had a bad feeling but, I needed the money, so... I said I'd meet with him, and Lilah was there." 

Lilah. Great. 

Cordelia paused in her task of shredding her cigarette, flickering a glance to Bethany. "So you knew Wolfram and Hart was involved." 

Bethany shrugged. "Sure. I had no idea that those two guys would be there.... I mean, I was all 'fuck you', but then Lilah said something, and I needed the money-" 

"What'd she say?" Cordelia asked quietly. Lilah was involved, which meant Wolfram and Hart was involved, which could have meant any number of things. The sinking feeling in her stomach liquefied and suddenly hardened with the force of an anvil. 

"Some stupid shit, I didn't really pay much attention-" 

"Bethany." Her voice was stronger, more insistent, and she succeeded in forcing the girl to look at her face. "Wha'd she say?" 

Bethany scrunched her face, quiet for a moment, before she said, almost uncertainly, "Production for use." 

"Production for use," Cordelia responded. 

"Yeah." Bethany brightened up a bit, as the conversation came back to her. "I was telling her, 'screw you', you know, and turned and she said that I had this gift, and everything should be made use of." 

Cordelia was quiet, mind whirling with unshared thoughts. Lilah Morgan. She knew Lilah 'Slutty' Morgan. She knew the woman with the ice-cold heart. For a long time, they had been more than nemesis, but almost equals on opposite sides. She knew Lilah, could almost picture the smooth, honeyed tone that Lilah Morgan had used on the young red-headed spitfire. 

Cordelia smiled. She knew Lilah Morgan. 

"Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn't it?" 

Bethany, again startled into silence, gave her glance. "Yeah, I guess," she said haltingly. 

"Tell me something, Bethany." Cordelia pursed her lips, eyes on the cigarette quickly being shredded in her fingertips. "When you found yourself trapped with those two men, and when you were trying to steal what they contracted you to steal, what were you thinking about?" 

Bethany blew her breath out, shrugging raggedly. "Shit, Cordy. I don't know..." 

"Come on, you're not dense, Bethany. You must have thought of something." 

"Well... yeah, but-" 

"Could it have been... oh, maybe... 'production for use'?" Bethany blinked, and Cordelia smiled, taking a moment to allow that to sink in, before continuing. "What're your powers for, Bethany? Up until now, what have you used them for?" 

Bethany looked bewildered, but she answered, slowly. "Keeping myself alive." 

"Ah... so... maybe that's why you used them. Thought you were in danger, had those words swimming around in your head. Lilah, with her smooth talking..." Bethany's eyes began to glitter, coming alive before her. "And you must have thought, when you were staring into those guy's eyes, 'production for use'." 

"Yeah..." 

"Seems reasonable?" 

"Yeah. Yeah!" Bethany sat up straighter, a fighting gleam in her blue irises as she almost began to hope. "I never wanted to kill those guys, but Lilah and her stupid speech, it hit me, 'production for use'-" 

"Sure." 

"Course! That's why I did what the hell I did! Lilah Morgan! Simple as that." 

"Sure it is." 

"I'm not fucking evil, not cause of that! Nothing evil about that." 

"Nope." Cordelia grinned. "Nothing at all." 

Bethany took in a breath, trembling slightly as she blew it out, hands burying into her red strands as she took it all in. "Fuck... Cordelia, I'm not evil." 

"No, Bethany," Cordelia eyes caught the slight trembles, the way the young girl seemed to lean against the railings, gravitating to her strength. "I don't think you are." Nodding, she stood, moving away from the cell. "Thanks." 

Bethany glanced up, gaze pinned on the Seer, standing with her. "You're leaving?" 

"I have to." Cordelia's tone was flippant, not uncaring, but Bethany seemed almost ready to cry. Boy... Cordelia paused, staring at the telekinetic. Someone that clingy couldn't possibly be evil. 

"Why?" 

"Someone's gotta save your life." 

Bethany was silent, mouth opened slightly, but when Cordelia winked, the young girl's own smile broadened. 

"Cool." 

"Yeah. Cool." Cordelia shook her head, resisting the urge to chuckle and turned away, heading back to the entrance. 

She had a crap load of work to do, and almost no time to do it. 

But hey, if there was a chance to save a soul and screw Lilah 'Slutty' Morgan out of it before she got married and moved to Maine, then it was just... 

Well... cool. 

-- 

Jaws dropped around the room and it was Faith who managed to explode with a prompt, "hell yes!" 

A charming--or at least, thought Fred, Angel seemed to think it was charming--smile spread across the vampire's features. "Guys," he started patiently, "how would it look if you all died after I'd taken out a ridiculously overpriced policy on your lives? Without including me? I'd find myself in a lot of hot, holy water, that's what." Angel nodded firmly, obviously pleased with this deduction. "Only solution is to get insured as well." 

"But, dog, you're already DEAD." Charles pointed out. 

Angel looked a little pained by the observation. "Undead," he corrected. "UNdead." 

Faith rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Ang--dead or undead, the fact is the moment you walk out there demanding a physical, Ken Doll's Doc Magoo is going to take one listen to   
that silent cavity you call a chest and JOIN you in the land of the Dead." 

Angel shook his head. "Not a problem." 

'Not a problem,' thought Fred disbelieving. "Not a problem?!" 

"Angel," Wesley again, voice calm and patient and familiar. Fred sighed just a little in relief. Wesley would make Angel see the stupidity of this idea. It was what Wesley did. Had always done. "No doctor--and certainly not the one currently in the Lobby--will give you a clean bill of health suitable for a life insurance policy." 

Fred nodded along to Wesley's words, agreeing wholeheartedly, and was utterly dismayed when Angel appeared to ignore the former Watcher completely. Moving back to the window, Angel cracked the blinds once more, peering out and then smiling. 

"Right on time." 

Wesley and Faith exchanged a glance but it was Charles who parroted the vampire. "Right on time?" 

Nodding, Angel ran a hand through his hair and headed for the office door. "Yeah. My doctor's here." 

Jaws once again dropped and Fred clambered from her seat to the window. Outside, talking with Douglas and the insurance-doc was a bald-headed Patrick-Stewart-clone. Complete with navy suit and a black doctor's bag. 

"YOUR doctor?" Faith asked, eyebrows raised. 

With a nod, Angel grinned. "Got Lorne to call in a favor. The guy's a real MD and everything--treats humans by day and demons by night. Completely legit and certified." 

"Certified," snorted Charles, disbelievingly. 

"Don't you mean CERTIFIABLE," snarked Faith as Angel, still smiling that cat-ate-canary grin, pulled open the office door and headed out into the lobby. 

"Well," Wesley answered the slayer as he shrugged and placed an arm around her shoulder, guiding her towards the other exit, "one of them will be." 

Fred watched them go, gave one last look to Angel through the blinds, and then turned towards Charles. Everything was so crazy right now... Cordelia back but not back, Angel getting   
a LIFE INSURANCE policy, Wesley and Faith planning mischief under a jealous vampire's blessing... 

Her head spinning, she gave her boyfriend a bewildered glance. What the hell is happening here? 

But Charles looked troubled and he answered her unspoken question with only a shrug. 

Jadeds. They were TOO jaded. It was frightening. 

More than ever, they needed Cordelia. Fred shuddered. 

Because this, the way they were blurring lines, it was getting just scary. 

--   


_END CHAPTER_


	6. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

_I've got a hotline to the freaking Powers, buster. I could've gotten a vision, or-or something to warn us. Oh, plus, I've got demon in me now. So, maybe - maybe there is some untapped power that could have help find Connor before, you know, before..._ -- Cordelia, The Price 

-- 

The city of Los Angeles was known for its diversity. Called the Mecca of the good ole' American melting pot, it was not unusual to walk through a half a block and encounter more than a dozen different cultures. 

And that wasn't even counting the demon ones. 

Nestled among the obvious niches of Latino, Indian, Asian, and other races of the human variety, were the hidden cultures, demonic societies who sprung up like wells throughout Los Angeles, some drawn by the chaos, others by the glitz and the gold. 

In many ways, they were no different than the human, a few, mixed breeds mostly, walking among the living humans, disguised as one of them, others, more extreme in their appearance, some TRUE illegal aliens, keeping to the shadows, part of a darker nightlife, a city that most inhabitants had no idea even existed. 

Underneath a random Los Angeles Post Office was a sacred area, once trespassed, broken. Previously reserved for higher beings, the extermination of the Oracles had brought about a curious change. 

Dubbed 'the Pressroom' by those who frequented it, the sacred area was now a congregation, a focal point in the battle for lost souls, where lives were lost and traded, and higher beings previously untouchable, were now brought down from their heavens to interact with lower beings. 

It was the only commune in Los Angeles, and among the champions of the various dimensions, it held a very vital role: It was a damned good place for gossip. 

Jared Miller had three horns on his right ear, through no fault of his own. The third horn came from his mother's side, and truth be told, he found them to be quite an inconvenience at times, because grappling favoring his right ear had caused more than a few occasions of whiplash. 

Gathering here at the pressroom was a welcome break from his random bouts of campaigning. Although he knew a few of the Champions (you learned to get around, knew more than a few of them by name) took the ongoings of the Pressroom seriously, he honestly was bored of it. The Powers kept them around to keep them informed, to keep the peace. Heated debates around souls, especially in THIS dimension, had been known to get somewhat riotous, and they weren't taking any chances. 

That still didn't change the fact that Mr. Miller was overdue for some serious family time. Champions were little more than glorified foot soldiers. 

Sure, he was bitter. It helped to be bitter. Sighing, he lifted his scaly feet over his chair, and turned a bored eye towards the other regulars. 

Marjiousithsouemthat - Marj for short - led the rest of the group in a rousing game of 'Pass the Shiftuflsut'. Unfortunately, they were fresh out of Shiftuflsut, and had decided to use a small mouse instead. 

The little grey earth animal was being less than cooperative. 

As was Al, who kept trying to eat it. 

Mr. Miller sighed heavily, an overly dramatic sigh. 

He was big on over-dramatics. 

Marksy walked into the room, sidestepping the game and settling down next to him. 

"What's the word?" 

"Wolfram and Hart are keeping the case." 

A chorus of groans resounded, Miller's one of the loudest. "There goes my afternoon. Well?" 

"Lilah Morgan and Skip are going to do one more double interview." 

"Geez. How many has she had now, ten?" 

"Tell you what, if that girl wasn't evil, she will by the time those two get through with her. 'Cruel and Unusual Punishment', indeed." 

"Well, either way, we've gotta look alive!" Marksy wiped at his brown, golden eyes gleaming silver as he dusted off his Sheeva Saber. "Things are getting more and more heated by the moment. We may be called in." 

"There he goes again, Mr. 'Never Fails the Mission'." 

"Will you two shut up over there?" Marj hissed, raising one of his heads to growl, keeping the second trained on the mouse. "HA! How does that look?" 

"Looks good from here." 

The foreign voice, interjected softly and with amusing familiarity, brought an almost immediate reaction from the gathered Champions. Miller damn near impaled himself on his own horn as he gave himself another bout of whiplash, a smile lighting up on his face. 

"Chase!" 

"Hey! It's the Light Bright!" 

Cordelia Chase leaned against the doorway, a piercing glow in her hazel eyes and a wonderful smirk caressing her sun kissed features. Miller had to admit, he wasn't a big fan of the human species in general. As a whole they were big complainers, small, skinny, too easy to eat, and just plain ugly. 

But Chase here, their little Light Bright, she had always somehow made them look good. 

It was in her smile, a small grin that slipped across perfectly formed lips, affectionate and happy and - damn. It had been too long. 

"Hey, guys." 

He stood, form heavy and hard as he pushed between the now standing group of Champions, coming forward, to rest hands on the fragile shoulders of the previously departed Seer. 

"Cordelia Chase!" 

He sounded breathless, but he was genuinely happy, but not as happy as Al was. The big guy forgot completely about trying to eat the mouse as he came forward to try to wrap his arms around Cordeila.. 

The girl would have none of it. Never intimidated by size, she shook her head in a fervent 'no' and stepped back, hand out to ward off his descent. "No way, Al- You took a bite out of me the last time." 

Al almost looked put out. "Love bite between Champions, Glow Bug." 

"Right, and how many people have actually fallen for that?" 

"Chase, glad to see you." Marj, with his scruffy blonde hair and sallow skin, ruffled at her bangs affectionately. 

"Glad to see you too, Marj." 

"What's with the hair?" 

"Hey!" Slapping at the errant yellow finger with the two inch long nail, Cordelia half glared at Marsky. "I paid eighty bucks for this haircut." 

"Shoulda kept the blonde." 

"You're the only person who ever believed that, Marksy," Miller responded. He shoved his way to the front again, almost doubled over to look her in the eyes. "What's the occasion, Light Bright?" 

And it was an occasion. The Light Bright had been gone for months, without a word or an explanation. It had gotten around she had even gone so far as to divorce the vampire she loved so much, and Miller, never sentimental in a job where life and death were common, had given her up for dead. 

More than once, in this circuit, she had tried to kill him. More than once, he had tried to kill her. 

But it was never personal. A job was a job, even when they were fighting on opposite sides for the good of the Powers. 

She was professional and friendly enough to still get it. Cordelia let a manicured palm drift down to settle on a curvy hip, glancing over the assembled group of champions. Her smile was infectious, but she seemed almost surprised, gaze honestly startled as she roved over each and every familiar face, almost deliberately ignoring his question. "Didn't expect to see all of you here." 

"You know us, Light Bright. When it's a soul, we come running." 

"Biggest currency, no matter what dimension, is a soul." 

Her smile faltered at that, and Miller almost found himself giving a slight nod of approval. One thing a person never forgot was the price of a soul. 

When it all came down to it, that was all there really was. 

"So, you back among the Higher Champions, Chase?" Marksy crossed his arms, leaning against the table as he towered over the little Champion with the big bright light. "A little birdie told us Glow Worm was out of the business." 

"Just a farewell appearance." Cordelia winked, curiously carefree, walking daintily in stiletto heels, distracted tone mimicked by her movements, as her free hand trailed delicately over the chairs, the tables. "I'm getting married tomorrow." 

Woah. That was unexpected. Miller froze, hand pausing in mid air as he blinked, focusing on the genuine smile that seemed to light up on Chase's face, faint excitement coloring her cheeks pink as she shrugged slightly. 

The news must have shocked his compatriots, because suddenly he was pushed back only to claw his way to the front of the pack, again when she was nearly swallowed again by big hulking demons. 

"What?!" 

"Again!?" 

"You betcha." Still, she held her ground, always graceful as she weaved around the forest of demon Champions. Turning, she gave a saucy wink, settling into Marksy's favorite chair, crossing her legs at the ankle as she leaned back. 

"So, we invited then?" He couldn't help but ask. Work partners or no, he and Chase, they worked well together, and she had always deserved better than the vampire bastard. Better than Skip. 

Better than this. Chase wasn't a Champion. She had a mind. An independent mind- and she made choices. 

This thing - whatever it was they were all doing - it wasn't her. 

She chuckled. "Might use you for a coat rack, Miller." A smaller demon, who looked almost human, small and gentle except for when his head split open to reveal the split personality inside, finally got her attention, and her voice softened, hand reaching out for a handshake. "Hey, Gypsy." 

"Glow Bug." 

"Whatcha getting' married for, Light Bright?" Sure, Miller may have sounded suspicious, but this just didn't make sense. Leave one shackle to get another? That didn't sound like Light Bright. She tilted her head slightly, caught his glare that hardened her own gaze, and a stiffening of her features made him frown. 

"None of your business, Miller," she responded, an oversaturated sweetness in her tone. 

"She's jokin'," Al announced, narrowing his eyes. "You're foolin' us, aren't you?" 

"Sweetie, you may be big, strong and stupid, but a soothsayer, you never were." Patting at his shoulder as if he were a small child, despite the fact he was nearly twice her height, Cordelia once again rose. Digging into the pocket of her leather jacket, her face transformed into a mischievous expression, a naughty twinkle in her eye and a chuckle at the edge of her voice when she turned and faced them all. "Check it out, fellas, three tickets to Maine, on the six o'clock flight from LAX." The evidence was damning, three small pieces of papers in her hand. "One of me, one for my hottie fiancé, and hold on to those horns, boys, one for his dear old mother." 

His mother?! Miller burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. "Well, that's sweet as hell." 

"Isn't it though?" Cordelia grinned, placing the tickets back into her pocket. "It's my out, guys. I'm through with the Powers, through with the Champions, and yes, as much as I love you guys, through with you." 

"Well, don't get all sentimental on us, Light Bright," Al said morosely. 

"Mouse is under the table, Al," she remarked, settling a hand on Marj's shoulder. 

"Ooh!" 

"I can't do it," Marj, strangely quiet until now, burst out loud, slamming his blue hands on the table. "I can't picture our little Light Bright pumping out babies and hanging diapers." 

Marksy snorted. "Singing lullabies and beating targs." 

"Targs?" 

"Word for it in English is rugs, Marksy." Miller sighed, shaking his head, crossing reluctantly around the table. Damned men - there used to be a time when an education was actually REQUIRED to get to this level of security. 

"Right." A beat. "You know what I meant." 

"Lost the punchline." Cordelia said, leaning over his shoulder as the game resumed, the Champions settling down around the table. "Went downhill in the translat-" 

The loud boom and rattle startled even him. He froze, mimicking Cordelia completely as they both swiveled heads to the side. The previously closed portal in the side of the room crashed open, loud and raunchy in its intrusion. 

"That's not the hell dimension 'firing squad', is it?" Her breathing was almost uneven, gaze riveted to the sight of the portal, hot and moist, breathing into The Pressroom. 

Way too excited for a retiree. 

"What do you care? You quit." Miller's tone was flat, skeptical. The look she gave him was a startled one, and he held it firm. Cordelia looked away first, a hot flush caressing her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. 

He frowned. She was slipping. 

"Please. Don't tell me you guys don't care about the noise." Miller followed as she turned, moving toward the portal, glancing at the murky figures, black shadows barely made out from beyond it. 

"Setting up for the trial for the Telekinetic." 

"Gonna miss a great trial, Light Bright," Mari called from the table, eyes still on the mouse. 

"Not interested," she responded, almost too quickly, focus now completely on the figures in the portal, fire and flame dancing around them, spilling into Press Room with malicious licks. 

Another roar came from the dimension, Miller jumped back instinctively. Damned loud idiots. Third horn ringing, he pushed past Light Bright and glared. "Hey! Keep it down, you hell beasts! Can't you see there's Champions at work in here?!" 

"Fuck you!" 

He blinked, mouth falling open as the beast flicked him off. "Woah." 

Beside him, Cordelia chuckled, beguiling grin floating on her face as she tapped him good-naturedly on the elbow. "Not big on respect for the Champions in there, are they?" 

He was too interested in grumbling to really care when she pulled out that damned cellphone her and every other person in this dimension lived by. 

"You think Sprint will give me service in here?" 

"I saw that guy from Verizon try to get in." 

Cordelia rolled her eyes, fighting a chuckle when Al started mimicking with, "Can you hear me now?" 

"You guys need to leave this dimension. And soon." 

"That's what I keep telling these guys, but... ya know how it is." 

Miller turned, once again caught by the glinting of the ring on her finger. 

He clucked his tongue as a thought filtered through his mind. 

"So... Light Bright... Angel, know you're getting married?" 

Sinking into his chair, almost swallowing himself up in the cushions, Miller grinned as the Champion froze, dark brown hair flipped out of her face when she gave him yet another customized 'Cordelia Chase Death Glare'. 

Damn. This had to be a record. 

"Yes. He knows." Her voice was resigned, slightly careless, FORCED. "Had lunch with him this afternoon." 

"He know you're quitting?" 

"YES," she said, shoulders drooping as she smacked Mari on the head, ignoring his jump. "I told him. Any more questions guys? Want to know where I did it? How he took it?" 

"What do we look like, a bunch of gossips?" Al remarked, once again trying to sneak a hand toward the mouse before someone slapped it away. 

"Oww." Mumbling around the stinging fingers in his mouth, Al barked, "Want in, Light Bright?" 

"As much fun as you know I think playing "Pass the whatever-you-call-it IS, I don't have time. I'm just doing another testimonial for character of witness of Bethany." 

"Ah." Miller knew it sounded kinda triumphant, and her suspicious glance did nothing to soothe that, but dangit- there had to be a reason this was all happening. 

It didn't sound like the Light Bright at ALL. 

"For pay, don't get excited, Miller," she answered. 

"Wasn't gonna say a word, Glow Bug." 

"Did she know who she was doing when she almost killed those guys?" she asked, flashing a 'thankyou' smile to Marksy as he pushed a seat into her direction. 

"Depends on who you ask," Al said, focused now on trying to flick the mouse's tail. "If you ask Skip, he says 'Yes', if you ask Wolfram and Hart, they say 'No'." 

Cordelia sighed, lost in thought as she rubbed at the tabletop, tapping it with her fingertips. 

"You know the story, right, Light Bright?" 

"From the horse's mouth. And no one's stepped up for character of witness?" 

"Earth is Angel's domain." 

"But if Skip-" 

"Not touching that bastard," Al muttered. "If you ask me, that kid's just headin' for trouble anyway. Better if we put her away now." 

"You think you can really save that kid?" Miller asked. "Cause, honestly? She's screwed either way." 

"Not if she gets a pardon," Cordelia shot back. 

Marj snorted. "Good luck. Last time the Powers pardoned a soul-" 

"Three years, six months, two days. My character of witness," she reminded them, nonchalant as she buffed her nails, crossed leg waving a heel distractedly. 

Yeah... Chase was good at that. Damned humans and their sympathy points. They were damned weak sometimes. They were big on thinking everyone was capable of being saved, when it was their dimension that seemed to cause the most trouble. 

With freedom came chaos, and Miller hated this place for it. 

"Light Bright has a point," Miller conceded. 

"Skip had a black eye for a week after that." Al grinned. "Serves the arrogant bastard right." 

The silence descended, interest turning back to the game. Miller kept his gaze on Chase. The demoness seemed edgy, glancing at her watching before she pulled out her cellphone, gazed at it a full minute, frowned, and put it back. 

Once again, her focus returned to the portal. 

He could practically see the wheels turning in that small head. The edges of his mouth pulled into an almost pout, when without another world, the Seer pulled out a lap top from under the desk, and flicked the switch. 

Light Bright was good. Small, almost human, but good. 

He had wanted a quick trial, quick judgment, time to go home and rest before his own hell dimension called him back. 

But now Light Bright was on the case. And she was good. 

Crap. 

They were going to be here all day. 

-- 

It was surprisingly easy, almost too easy, to worm his way into a medical examination. Angel's charms were hardly needed, Lorne's doctor did the work himself, talking in short whispers with the other medic, while Douglas stood there, looking slightly confused, and only for a moment, slightly suspicious. 

The human heart was telltale, beating from inside the human body, and Angel could smell the first seeds of doubt, that had begun to permeate in Douglas' body. It was clear, sleeves rolled up and glasses now on his head, that Douglas was a man of brains, as well as brawn. His eyes were narrowed and earnest, the pencil bobbing up and down in his mouth from where he held it was clearly chewed on and worn, and his eyes were noticeably bright. Angel studied him, a quick glance of his features, a small study, reminiscent of a past where a vampire stood fearlessly in alleys, dark, in even darker shadows, and waited for a man of good intentions. 

An itch in the back of his fangs, small and piercing, haunted Angel's soul, with a pang he had almost forgotten, and in a hard swallow, he almost lost the resolve that came with the hunter. 

It faded at the sight of the ring on Douglas' finger, and the plastic smile, easy and simple and yes, reminiscent of Angelus, was effortlessly placed on the handsome face. 

He stood now, patiently, shirt unbuttoned with practiced ease, mouth open. God, he probably looked like a moron, but Douglas was now scribbling diligently, fingers spotted with black ink. 

"Okay," Dr. Folster had a grim smile on his face, almost seeming bored when he turned away, began folding away his stethoscope. 

Angel smiled, the very picture of innocence. "Everything okay?" 

"You've got nothing to worry about," came the response from the old doctor, eyebrow arching in droll humor, "For a very, very long time." 

"Great. Good..." In the corner of his vision, Conner huffed and mumbled something that was too old and too harsh for a boy of his age. Angel ignored it, clapping fingers together in a mock self-congratulation. Douglas, his mountain of paperwork fanned out over the desk he borrowed, looked intense, serious. Just a little too serious. 

"And how are YOU doing, Doug?" Angel asked pointedly, fingers idle as they buttoned up the open shirt. 

"Just one more thing," he said after a moment, half rising out of his seat to politely thank both doctors. "Two, actually." The fiancé was hesitant, fingers rolling the pen through out them, weaving in and out in distraction as he attempted to frame his words. When they began, they sounded firm, doubtful, "As a vampire-" 

"Now, Douglas," Angel's response was immediate. The vampire knew intimidation, and he fell into the role effortlessly, hands on Douglas' shoulders to keep the taller man from rising, eyes dark and hard and voice as smooth as silk, edged with hard steel. "You heard my doctor. I'm great. I'm good, I got a lot of years left, and after all, isn't that what counts?" 

"But... you're dea-" 

"Just because my heart isn't physically beating, doesn't mean I don't have a life. Are you arguing that I don't have a life? Look around you, Douglas, look at my past. I've been married. I have a child. I run a business. Isn't that considered that somewhat as a life?" 

Douglas' eyes nearly crossed, as Angel now glared, inches from the upturned face. 

"Are you suggesting I don't have a life worth insuring?" 

"Well, I... uh... what I mean is-" 

"Douglas, I'm hurt. I'm hurt. That is just... Dr. Folster?" The doctor paused, black bag under one arm. "Have you ever heard such a specieist remark?" 

Douglas paled slightly, and Angel had to bury the smirk behind his first, turning away as the Docter slowly peeled off his glasses, wiping them slowly. "With my full medical expertise, I can personally guarantee that Mr. Angel here, has lived a life, and will continue to live such a life, some humans can only hope to compare." 

With that, he bowed, exiting as quietly as he had made it. 

Clapping his hands together, the vampire turned, not enough of a better man to not feel a slight thrill at the sheepish guilt now creeping up Douglas' face. "You see?" 

"I... I'm sorry, Angel. I didn't think- You're right, I just... it's unusual, but I can do it. I can!" he declared resolutely, hands now once again scribbling over the paper work. "And all that leaves is... your beneficiary." 

"What?" 

"Beneficiary. In case of your death." Douglas stammered slightly at the word, as if even just the annotation of it made him uncomfortable. It was an interesting realization. A man who dealt in the business of selling lives, insuring them, unable to cope with the ramnifcations. Interesting card to hold. "Who do we contact to pay off... you know..." 

"Cordelia." There was no hesitation behind the word, not pause in his answer, coming directly after the sentence left Douglas' mouth. 

The finance's reaction was immediate. Blonde strands tumbled wildly as Douglas jerked his head up, and ever a truthful man, Douglas blinked once, shifting uneasily in his chair. "I don't think... that's -" Planting his pen down, his shoulders squared, as the young man stared the vampire in the eyes. "I don't think so, Angel." 

"What? Why not? There shouldn't be any problem with making Cordelia my... whatever-it-was-" 

"Beneficiary," Douglas supplied flatly. 

"Right! That- wait..." Angel paused. "It's not because she's part demon, is it? Because if you're going to be all speciest about -" 

"No! No, no, no—that's not what I meant all!" Douglas said hurriedly, shrinking away, now back in his seat. "I don't even think of Cordelia that way- I mean... as a... I mean... you know- what I mean is-" 

"What?" Angel pressed, imposing and damned well aware of it. 

"I... I'm going to marry her. I feel I should be the one to take care of her." 

Right. Little Mr. Insurance Man take care of one of the Greatest Champions the world had ever known. That was believable. 

Angel sighed, loud and unneeded, pure theatrics, as he gently slipped an arm around Douglas' shoulder. "I know. And you will, Douglas. You're a good man. A great man, with integrity, and honor and... you're a Champion, Doug." 

Douglas blinked, mouth parting open slightly in awe. "I'm not a-" 

"Sure, you are, and because you are, you'll understand something. Man to ... well... vampire." Angel grinned slightly. "Okay," His voice was firmer, apologetic. "No icing here, but the truth. It's a debt of honor, Douglas. One champion to another. I was a terrible husband to Cordelia. She could have taken everything, the hotel, the business. But she didn't-" 

"I thought she left because-" 

"She could have taken everything, but she didn't." he clucked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. "Too independent." 

"Well," Douglas was almost indignant. "I'm independent too, you know-" 

"Sure, sure! You are! A champion, just like I said!" Douglas had a spine - sure, it was practically jelly, but it was still there. "And a champion, he knows what it means to take care of people. Look... Cordy looks great now. I mean, she's beautiful, and I've got a lot of years left. I'm eternal, remember?" 

"Well, Cordelia did mention something about a Shansh-" 

"And just think, in about twenty, thirty years, up in that good ole' insurance town - that money won't even mean anything to you!" 

"Well, I mean, sure, but-" 

"But what if you suck?" 

Douglas blinked. "Huh?" 

It was a change that the fiancé wasn't expecting, a small slip in the shell that cracked just slightly, just enough for a vampire to slip in. "Suppose things don't go well? Suppose, things just... suck for you? And you don't make anything? And you end up living, in your mother's house, for years, and years, and year-" 

"Well, I don't really think-" 

"Can you picture that?" Angel remained lost in his own world, building his picture of shame and degradation. "Cordelia, old and feeble, poor... Can you see her, Doug?" 

"Yeah...." The word came out dazed, breathless. 

"You wouldn't want that for her, now would you?" It took a well-timed smack on the back to bring Douglas back, and when he did, the pencil fumbled out of his hands and rolled to the end of the desk, landing with a clatter on the marble floor. 

He swallowed. "Well... when you put it that way..." 

Angel paused, eyes narrowing slightly. 

Softening his tone, the vampire took in a sigh, focus on his cuffs. 

"I know what you're thinking, Douglas. You don't trust me. You shouldn't. Everything you've read about vampires is true. We're animals. We feed. We kill. We mate-" 

"Now, Angel, I don't think you're a -" 

"It's true." Angel closed his eyes, and suddenly let his heart bleed. Just for a minute. That was all. "I just... sometimes, I feel like a man, too. And Cordelia... she was the one that made me feel that way. An old friend... years before anything ever... it seems like a whole new life... he told me... she was my humanizing influence." Something dangerously close to a heartbeat itched in Angel's chest, and there was dead sincerity in his voice when he turned, and spoke truthfully, rigid with almost anger. "What I'm saying is, I love her, too." 

The fiancé sat, almost dumbfounded as he stared up at Angel. It took a moment to shake himself away from the power of the words, as he peeled off his glasses. "Yes. I'm beginning to realize that." 

"It doesn't matter..." Angel paused, back into the role, almost enjoying it now, as the tears began to well in Douglas' eyes, "that she'll never know just how much..." He blinked, eyes cast heavenward as he slid into his leather jacket, voice dark, heavy, "she hates me, Douglas. But maybe... when she does know... she won't. Just a little." 

It was angst over load, and Douglas, with his big, naïve heart, bought into it, hook, line and sinker. 

"Damn, Angel. I just..." he tapped at the table nervously. "I'm not gonna apologize for meeting her, cause... I love her, but... Damn. I just... I feel kinda like it's my fault that it's-" 

"Douglas, it wasn't you." His posture was slumped, eyes dark and clouded as he looked at some dark abyss of pain only he could see. "It was over before you. It just wasn't... kyrumption, I guess." 

"Huh?" 

Distraction was always a main weapon, the key to any real fight was to keep the balance uneven. Keep moving the line, never let the enemy focus. 

The check was pulled out at just that moment, stuck into Douglas' face so fast the man had to blink before he registered what it was. 

"Here." 

"Oh... right." With a rueful grin painting the handsome features, Douglas reached up and took the check, folding it neatly, fingering the creases with care. "I... Cordy, she'll feel ashamed, I know, for not trusting you." He took in a breath and offered a comforting pat on Angel's shoulder. "But she'll know someday, Angel. I promise." 

"Right, sure. Hey- you promised to make the phone call, remember?" 

-- 

She was so on edge that when the cellphone began to vibrate from her inner coat, Cordelia gave a yelp, almost like a Chihuahua. 

Scrambling for the phone, she gave the group a small wave, turning away from the nosy bastards. 

"Hello!?" 

"Cordelia." 

The soft voice brought a sigh of relief through her body, and a beautiful smile on her face. "Hi, Doug." The argument around her rose to a dull roar. "Hey- keep it down, nimrods!" 

"Take the call outside, Cordelia-" 

"Can't believe she actually got service here." 

She moved to the corner of the room, free hand over her free ear in an attempt to discern what her boyfriend was saying. "What? Did you get the check?" 

"Certified and everything." Douglas sounded happy. She could almost picture the big Kool-Aid smile stretched out on the golden skin. "It's in my wallet." 

Oh, thank God. She let herself breathe. So Angel was behaving. "Great, good. In your wallet-" Cordelia blinked. In his wallet. In Douglas' back pocket. In Los Angeles- with a vampire, and Faith, and Wes- "Wait. Not good. Where are you?" 

"I'm at the Hyperion." 

"What about Mr. Bumpy Face? Where's he?" 

"In his office." 

Okay. Good... She squinted, mistrust forcing her check to tighten as her voice lowered. "Look, Douglas. Take it out of your wallet. I don't trust it in there." 

"What? Why?" 

"Well, because- it's Los Angeles! And it's... evil! And-" 

"Cordelia, I know you think I'm innocent and all, but I can certainly hold my own in a city like Los Angeles." 

"I know, Doug, but-" 

"I may not be a Champion, like Angel, but-" 

"Oh, who said you were?" she snapped. The line on the other end grew silent, and Cordelia blinked, dread settling into her when she suddenly realized the venom that had unintentionally entered her voice. Oops. "Sorry. I just... you really are, sweetie, in your own way." 

"That's what Angel said, too." 

"Oh he did, did he?" The suspicious began to mount. Angel. The bastard. "Look, Douglas... there's an old superstition, it's a thing we Champions do, when... um... when we actually get paid-" 

"Powers know THAT never happens!" shouted Miller from the table. 

She rolled her eyes and turned further away from the group. "The BIG checks, we umm... put them ... in our socks." 

Everything got awfully quiet. 

"Where?" he asked. 

"In your socks," she reaffirmed. "It... brings good luck." 

"I don't wear socks," Marj said, poking his head under the table. 

"I've been a Champion for over seventy years," Al groused suspiciously. "I never heard that before." 

"Yeah, neither did I," She muttered, turning to the staring group only to wave them to keep quiet, taking her hand off the phone, "Shut up." 

"Cordelia, I really don't-" 

"Douglas?" Fine. If she had to resort to feminine wiles, she would. "Do it for me? Please?" 

"Now?" 

"Yes, right NOW." 

He was laughing at her, or with her, or something. Almost amused, a chuckle in the back of his throat. "Allright, baby, hold on." She waited, teeth gnawing at her lower lip. "Okay," he came back on the line. "I did it." 

She closed her eyes, taking a moment to finally breathe. "Good," she said, allowing herself to smile again. "Great. Then tell Broody Pants that I'll get his character of witness done in an hour. Then we're outta here." 

"Great. Cool. And Cordy?" 

"HA! I win!" 

"HEY! You can't EAT HIM!? CORDELIA!" 

"Cordy?" 

She paused, caught in the act of turning back to the table of Champions. "Hmm?" 

"Can't wait!" Douglas whispered. 

"TELL this dodo he can't EAT the mouse-" 

"You guys! Stop with the- sure, Bruce, me too," she cut in quickly, clicking the cellphone shut. "Learn to play nice, or don't play at all-" Digging the cellphone into her pocket, her glare was an icy one as she rested both hands on her hips. Al nearly seemed to shrink from her glare. "Let the mouse go, Al." 

"Mphhmphf." 

"Let him go!" 

Miller slammed Al on the head, and the poor little mouse fell out, landing with a splotch of spit on the table, shivering and screeching to an exit. 

The argument started up again, and this time, Cordelia's voice was heard, yelling with the loudest of them. 

-- 

_End chapter._


	7. Chapter Seven

**His Girl Friday: Chapter Seven**

_"I had a vision of you. That's how Angel found you. I felt everything. And those guys are better off squashed, I truly think, but - somewhere in that moment of panic a decision got made and I *don't* want something like that to happen to my friends - or, and I can't stress this enough, me. - No matter what, sex complicates the equation - even more than you think."_   
- Cordelia; Untouched 

-- 

It was kinda funny, if you thought about it. 

They both wore leather jackets. On both of their faces was a scowl that, in a fleeting glance, would have frightened some, caused others to walk in another direction. 

By all rights, the pair, walking side by side, looked almost the same. 

Faith was never naïve enough to believe she and Wes were cut from the same mold, despite more than a few people who had told her. 

Sure, at first glance, a quick dossier of their file that Fred dutifully kept would reveal a similar past: both seeking redemption from an attempt to do right gone horribly wrong, to prove to even themselves that they deserved this second chance, that the bitterness that came from trying their damndest in a world that had spit on them had not yet eaten them whole. 

But there were differences, obvious and palatable and glaring. 

Wesley blended in. Even in his leather coat, he wore a cashmere shirt, smooth to the touch and soft under her fingertips. His pants were brown, wrinkle free, and his shoes were a solid black. Stubble, closely shaved and almost deliberate, hid a scar that shone red when he was angry or excited. She had learned that her first night with him, a fierce coupling that had been sex and nothing more. Her hands had drifted, fingered, and he had flinched. 

It was a look she had never forgotten, the look that made her understand, believe, for the first time since she had set foot in the Hyperion, that Wesley, evil lawyer, still had actual feelings. 

First, second, third impressions that were squashed, turned on their head, shifted and marked. 

She had learned, from her own crisis, the shift in relations from the moment she stopped fucking Wes and started making love to him - something she still had a hard time admitting - that no one was the same. 

She and Wesley were as different as night and day. She was a killer, when the bones were bared. She was fucking good with mind games, with manipulation, and for a long time she had sought to destroy because she couldn't face herself, what she was. Wes, the bastard, had stared down at the evil that resided in himself, ignored it, and then embraced it, became a soulless, stodgy bastard who fucked with his life, with his lawyers, and had become bitter and angry enough to take her on- 

Because he had been bored with the whole thing. 

No, they were never the same. Walking side by side, fingers entangled as they sifted through the crowds of the Union Station, she knew, they weren't. 

"There," he said crisply, voice low as he immediately turned, casual as he covered her from the view, hands slipping around her waist, drawing her in. 

With a rueful smile, Faith tilted her head, drawing in a ragged breath when his lips suddenly caressed just under her jaw. Keeping him close, she ignored the slight tremor from his nuzzling to study the scene he had opened before her. 

"Yeah, that's him." He smelled of Old Spice, Wes was way old school. He murmured something, a vibration against the softest spot of her jaw, and it made her tremble. "Work, Wes," she managed to mumble, drawing a mischievous chuckle that quickly turned into a gasp when she shifted her neck and lightly tugged at his ear with her teeth. 

"Blasted..." he moved away, pushing her almost abruptly, before drawing her into him, cuddling her against his chest, again hiding her. "We needn't draw anymore attention to ourselves than necessary." 

"Way to state the obvious, Wes," she replied, pulling out of his embrace to move behind a pillar, once again sneaking a look to the oblivious Douglas, who, no more than twenty feet away, was reading a newspaper as he moved up one in line. "God," she whispered, turning away to rest her head against the cold marble. "This is seriously twisted, Wes." 

"How so?" Wesley was completely absorbed, eyes hauntingly like a cat as he continued to stare, hand still trapped in hers, focused, gaze narrowed on the unsuspecting fiancé. 

Faith took an uneasy breath, and the nausea within her churned slowly. Fuck. 

How long had it been since Cordelia had walked into that damned hotel? 

It seemed like another world. 

Another spot, empty and waiting and Faith never wanted to admit it, but there was always a part of her in direct conflict with the other - the urge to see Cordelia return, if only to keep Angel's now unrequited love from turning into bitterness, and the small, betraying relief that Cordelia had had the guts to say 'Fuck You' to the Powers for being arrogant assholes. 

The Blonde-Streaked Motor Mouth had had more courage than any of them, and it had taken guts, the severing of everything Cordelia knew, to pull it off. 

Who the hell were they to dictate what she wanted? 

"What the fuck are we doing?" 

The words were whispered, almost a thought that had managed to make itself heard, but he heard her. He always did. 

"Faith?" Something about the way she had said it must have triggered an alarm, because suddenly those intense blue eyes were all on her, Douglas forgotten about, if only for now. 

They were different. They were always different, and he was just a mystery to her, even when she professed to know him. Because there was no way she could have fallen this hard, this quickly with Wesley. There was no way that a man who had tangled with evil for lack of anything better to do, could have been this damned gentle with a woman who had once thought it would be fun to run a piece of glass from his left pectoral down to his belly button. 

She couldn't understand it, but she needed it, all the same. 

Her eyes closed, and she managed a weak smile. "It's not our shit, Wes. You know? Maybe..." 

"What?" 

"Maybe she's better off in boring old Maine." Her eyes opened, and she caught a dubious stare from him. 

He was thoughtful, hand falling away from her face as he squinted once more to their target, blowing out a contemplative breath. 

"Faith- remind me of this: when you and I became reacquainted-" she had to smile at that. Reaquainted. How quaint. Sounded a hell of a lot better than 'when we were fucking the living shit out each other in a power struggle that nearly killed us both'- "You said something to me." 

"I said a lot of things to you, Wes," she said pointedly. 

"True, but one of reasons I returned with you was this," Again his gaze swiveled, pinned on her. "You told me, in less than flattering terms, that I was a coward. I refused to see my faults, refused to see beyond my own bitterness to understand my true place because I feared it. Do you remember?" 

She did- she had said it with every intention of hurting him, angering him to the point where she could turn her back on him and not have to deal with what they were, what she didn't want them to be- the words had spilled and she had cried soon after. 

Tears she would never really forgot. Faith just did not cry. 

"Yeah. I remember, Wes." 

"And then?" 

She gave a small smile, arms crossing as she couldn't help but stare in wonder. Ass. "I said the reason I knew this shit was because I already had. That I was better than you, that Angel was better, because of it." 

"A point I still contest," he added. "But it was a true point, Faith. And you were correct in your assertation. I can not lie about that." 

"And neither can Cordelia." 

"That's right." And suddenly, she understood, why Wes was doing this, even with his Angel issues, and his 'not a champion' issues. Cordelia. Cause he still cared about Cordelia. 

"She's being a chicken shit." 

"Yes, she most defi- he's moving." Immediately, he turned, and she followed, taking his outstretched hand and tangling their fingers, sun glasses slipped on to hide the focus of her attention. 

"Don't get me wrong," she said after a minute, lingering at the Krispy Krème Cart when Douglas stopped to pat at a little poodle. "I like that she's taken over. Certainly resolves the little issue we had before." 

"Issue?" 

"Yeah. You know, the 'you get anywhere near that skanky whore again I'll castrate you and kill her ass' issue." 

"Will you get the bloody hell OFF Lilah?" Wesley simpered, thoughtful as he pulled up his long sleeve and pulled back his wrist. 

She grabbed it, immediately fiddling with the clasp and unhooking the thousand dollar watch. "Don't get me fucking started, Wes." 

"It didn't bloody stop you from suggesting your own philanderous intentions with that poof, did it?" 

Her lips quirked. "Jealous?" 

"You infuriating little brat." Large fingers threaded through her hair and she was plastered against him when his mouth descended and her lips were plundered in a deep, harsh kiss. 

She was released just as quickly, but there was a twinkle in her eye as he plucked the watch from her hand and cupped it in his palm. "I'll be back." 

She would have said 'Be Careful', but damn if THAT sounded way too domestic. 

Instead, she kept her eyes on Douglas, on Wesley's form as he weaved unnoticed to the crowd, toward the unsuspecting fiancé. 

Fuck. 

Faith took in a shuddering breath, and leaned back, using the wall for support as glanced again at the scene. 

Yeah. Cordelia was being a chicken-shit. 

She knew that. 

But, FUCK- 

If Wesley had been there... if he had known... if he had felt- 

--__

_-pure panic as it filtered through Angel's face.___

_"I can't find her."___

_Faith was out of breath. She had long ago shrugged out of her leather jacket, and the wind was chilling.___

_She felt cold, the sensation fluttering down her spine as she whirled around on the cliffs, eyes drifting heavenwards.___

_"They couldn't have taken her that quickly," Angel growled, face jerking up into the stillness of the sky.___

_"You mean they do this shit on a regular basis?!" Faith blinked, drawing in deep, ragged breaths, absently wiping her bloody palms on her jeans, wincing at the dark smudges. "Fuck..."___

_The exhaustion of the past few days overwhelmed her tired body, and Faith felt her knees give out from under her. She collapsed on the gravel, drawing her legs toward her and cradling them toward her chest, shivering in the salty ocean air, the sound of the waves crashing into her ears.___

_"There's a trial going on up there..." Angel remained standing, his tall body towering above. His left hand hovered somewhere near her face, and she caught the wedding ring as it glistened in the moonlight, sparkly and for some reason, of interest.___

_"Explain this to me," she finally said, teeth chattering slightly, fingers threading through wild tresses in an effort to keep the humidity from frizzing them further. "So... I'm still having issues with Cordelia being all 'higher being' and crap, but they take her?! Like... all the time?!"___

_"It's a trial," Angel repeated, hands curling into fists as he let out a slow breath. "She goes up there to battle for the souls the only way I can't."___

_"So... no kick-o, no fight-o?" Faith mimicked, gathering her strength and rising to her knees. "Damn if I don't feel all fucking useless."___

_Angel never glanced at her, only continued to search the heavens for any sign of his wife. Faith was uncomfortable with the silence, the Hyperion had been filled with more and more fighting recently, and she felt the tension gnaw at her, the quiet serving to tighten the knots deep inside of her.___

_Her left cheek stung, and with a sniffle, she reached up, patted it, came away with smeared blood on her already stained palms. Fuck. So that was it then... Three days of fighting, of damned near getting killed to save a guy who had killed the guys who had raped his wife, and in the end, there wasn't even a damned point.___

_All it took was some divine intervention and Cordelia plucked up to ascend on high and that was it.___

_"This sucks."___

_"Yeah. It does." Angel shot her a nervous smile. It looked out of place on the vampire's face, and Faith couldn't help but smile insincerely back at it.___

_"Bugs the shit out of you, doesn't it?"___

_"What does?" He must have noticed her shivering, because the trenchcoat was shrugged off, and gently placed over her shoulders.___

_"That she does this. Hey- question."___

_He blinked, nodded once, almost wary. "Okay."___

_She felt the salt of the air invade her wound and she winced. Her cellphone was clattered somewhere in the darkness behind her, and she knew the others were lost somewhere. Most likely looking for them, wondering where the hell they were.___

_Even now, she had to wonder at the surrealism of this whole thing. A battle so large, so consuming, a battle of a soul, and now her speeding heart had to slow down, wait...___

_On CORDELIA, of all people.___

_"Why her?"___

_Angel blinked, his 'confused' face, and Faith, new in her attempts to make with the talkie and the sincere conversation, still felt the frank wonder. "What do you mean?"___

_"Cordelia - the one I knew, that wasn't a higher being, Angel. Now... hell, I'm willing to believe a lot of crap has changed, I mean... look at me, but... you think she can't take this shit? That she's strong enough?"___

_"Do you think she can't?" Angel's voice was edged in anger, as Faith had just directly insulted his precious Cordelia. Maybe she had.___

_"Look, all I'm saying is, those bags under her eyes- they aren't trademarks of any Higher Beings I know of."___

_"How many do you know?" Angel snapped.___

_"She's not a higher being, Angel," Faith snapped back, getting to her feet and swaying almost dizzily when the pain of her injury overwhelmed her slightly. "That's what I'm saying. That's a hell of a lot of pressure to put on a chick that's barely twenty-five-"___

_"She's stronger than that, Faith."___

_"Fuck, yeah! Doesn't mean she deserves that shit?!"___

_He walked away from her. Angel was good at that. Everytime a conversation didn't go his way, he just turned tail and ran, and like Cordelia, Faith followed him, suddenly shouting into the wind. "You put that label on her and she's FUCKED, Angel! Tell me you don't see that!"___

_"I have faith in her, Faith- that's all I need to see."___

_"That's all you wanna see-"___

_"Faith-"___

_"Angel, she's getting bored with shit- one way or another you're going to lose her and tying her to you with this mission isn't-"___

_His hand grabbed her shoulder, pushed her back quicker than she was ready for, and she felt, gravel biting into her palms as she threw them back to catch herself, rolling away from her pissed off friend.___

_"Why the hell are you telling me this, Faith? I know my wife." He crouched now, eyes dark and narrowed as they glared at her. "I know her, and I know-"___

_"You know shit, Angel," she chuckled bitterly. "She's left you behind and you're scrambling on your ass to catch up. Look, man. I'm trying hard to say this isn't about you. I'm not insulting you or anything I'm just-"___

_"What, Faith?" he bit. "What?"___

_Her pants were wet and dirty. Her hair hung down now in muddy tendrils, and Faith knew she must have looked like a damned mess, especially compared to the vampire who stared down at her. There wasn't a hair out of place, no scars or blood marring the perfect features.___

_But for the first time in her life, she felt sorry for him.___

_"She's got stuff that she's never dealt with, all right? And it's gonna build up and eat her up inside and when that happens, she's gonna run..."___

_What do you know? The auto-biography ala Sigmund Frued.___

_He got it. And yeah, he was still a vampire, because he took a long hard look, and then straightened away from her, biting crisply, "She's not you, Faith."___

_Fucking bastard.___

_"Fine," she whispered. "Fine-"___

_"Faith, I'm sorry-"___

_"Forget it."___

_"Faith..."___

_He sounded apologetic. Apparently the soul had caught up with the vampire, but Faith was in a Slaying mood, and there was no way in hell she was going to turn and face the bastard with the stake sticking into her pocket.___

_Raising a fist behind her, she let a third finger stick straight up, walking as quickly as she could away from the beach-___

_And then she heard the scream.___

_Faith froze, the sound filling her ears, familiarity sending a chill straight through her. She jerked around, wind whipping her hair almost painfully into her face. She pushed it away, and began to run, pants heavy and heart racing as she struggled to catch up the vampire as he sped forward.___

_It was a good two hundred feet, the hunched figure huddled on the cliff was barely recognizable, but she sure as hell hadn't been there before.___

_When Faith got close enough, her steps faltered, suddenly losing the strength to move any closer.___

_Fuck.___

_The former May Queen huddled in the dirt like a baby, face hidden as she sobbed, figure wracking with sobs, cries that were now low and quiet.___

_Even Angel was stunned into silence. The vampire stood, unsure, face hidden from Faith as he walked slowly forward, gently kneeled.___

_"Corde-"___

_Cordelia jerked from his touch, in her momentum falling on her side. She didn't move.___

_Oh, crap... crap, crap, crap-___

_"Cordelia..." Angel once again tried to reach for her, hands hesitant. Faith held her breath, eyes darting from the vampire to his wife, the 'higher being' who at this moment was rolling in dirt.___

_"Angel..." Faith sucked in her breath, surprising even herself when she whispered, "Shut the hell up."___

_He didn't even look at her as he tried again, but Cordelia was too quick. The tremoring that had taken over her body ceased, and before his hand even reached her shoulder, she pushed him away.___

_Faith finally saw her face.___

_Cordelia's orbs were pure white, fading by the second into the hazel she knew.___

_"Don't touch me." Her voice had no volume behind it, in it a lilt that Faith barely heard over the crashing waves. Despite that, her tone held an iron command, anger that seemed to seep through the Cheerleader as she slowly, too slowly, got to her feet. "I'm hot- I'll burn you..."___

_Cordelia had been wearing black before she was taken. Now she was dressed in all white, long and flowy, and the wind whipped through her short bangs as they flew from her face.___

_She didn't look at Faith as she brushed past her, with her dead eyes that scared the hell out of the Slayer.___

_"What the FUCK happened up there?!" she finally burst.___

_"He's dead."___

_"Dead?!" Angel was right behind her, both warriors treading in the sinking, wet sand after the Seer as she wiped her eyes, walking in a quick, determined line straight back where they came from.___

_"Yes, dead. Damned. Eternally."___

_"Fuck, Cor! You were supposed to save him!"___

_"Don't, Faith."___

_"Cordelia." Angel jogged past her, grabbed an elbow, voice almost desperate as he swung his wife back toward him. "What do you mean?"___

_Again, she shrugged him off. "He's dead, Angel."___

_"Cordelia-"___

_Again, Faith felt desperately out of the loop, and it was beginning to piss her off. Somehow, however, she didn't have the strength to push herself in on this... not with that look in Cordy's eyes.___

_"What do you mean, he's dead? Cordelia-"___

_"I don't want to talk about it-"___

_"Cordelia- whoever killed him, we have to know." Angel had a death grip on her shoulder now, voice earnest and full of righteous anger. "We have to find a way to save his soul, bring him back, maybe to heaven or-"___

_"And what if he's evil, Angel? Like the prophecies-"___

_"The prophecies said Connor was evil. You never believed that."___

_She swallowed hard, a gulp that Faith would have probably heard had it not been for the sea ringing in her ears.___

_"Angel-"___

_"It's not like you to give up, Cordelia. Tell me what happened."___

_Cordelia's voice was unusually hard. "And then what, Angel? Will you kill the person that damned him? Will you destroy them for what they did? To know that they were able to look into the eyes of a human soul and send them into eternal torment? What would you do, Angel?"___

_"What was right, Cordelia." He was loosing patience. Cordelia was driving both of them crazy, but there was something that kept Faith's trap shut. An uneasy feeling that twisted with in her, bubbling up with Cordy's seething hate.___

_Crap. Crap. Crap.___

_"And what if it was right?"___

_"It's NOT, and you know it." Angel's hand tightened around her. The vampire held onto his demon wife, never letting her go. "What did they do, Cordelia?"___

_"I did it."___

_Three little words that came out almost broken.___

_Fuck.___

_Startled, Faith gasped for breath, stepping back as Cordelia stared beseechingly into Angel's face. He looked stunned, unsure, disbelieving.___

_"You did what?"___

_"I damned him. It was me, Angel. I damned him."___

_The words sunk in, and Cordelia seemed almost like a lost child as she clung to Angel, stared into his eyes, desperate for ... something. Understanding maybe? Forgiveness? Shit... Faith's mind was a desperate whirlwind, struggling to lock onto some sense of clarity.___

_She was out of this entirely now, but even she could discern the look on Cordelia's face, the fragile balance between aching hurt and the need for acceptance-___

_But... Fuck-___

_And Angel was absolutely still, staring at Cordelia, silent with disbelief.___

_The emotion only crossed his face for a second. That was all. But it was enough.___

_Anger, judgment, disbelief-___

_It flickered through his features, left as quickly as it came, but Cordelia saw it.___

_Her own face changed just as quickly: the softness fell, and the hardness came back.___

_"Cordelia-"___

_Cordelia ran from both of them.___

_It wasn't the last time._

-- 

"Where's the Light Bright?" 

"Visiting the Little Champion's room," Miller responded, eyes on the mouse, fingers gently smoothing over it as he glanced at his compatriots. 

"Wonder what Angel Investigations is going to do without Cordelia," Marksy mused, eyes raised toward the ceiling, lost in thought. 

"Been doing all right so far, haven't they?" Al responded, mumbling through the side of his mouth as he fisted the mouse. "Pass." 

"On three." Miller's large frame settled further into his chair, eyes glinting from the fiery spits of the hell dimension behind him. "Personally, I'm more interested on knowing if that vampire would really let her go." 

"No kidding." 

Al burst into a fit of chuckles, the demon's laughter sounding disturbingly like a baby crying, even to Miller. "Remember what he did to that Lawyer, after he put her in that coma?" 

Everyone, including Miller, winced. 

Al rubbed at his wrist ruefully. "Lucky bastard at least got it back." 

"Anyone know who this guy she's marrying is?" Al asked, head raising, curious enough to distract himself from the game. 

"I don't know. Some 'Douglas' or something." 

"I give the marriage six months," Miller announced. 

"Now, why do you think that?" Marksy asked, genuinely put out at the thought of divorce. 

Optimistic bastard. 

"Because Light Bright won't be able to stay away from the mission any longer than that." The mouse scurried to the right, near close to a heart attack and quivering with it's little dark eyes. From this light, it kinda reminded him of his thirtieth kid. "You saw her when that portal opened," he elaborated, waving toward the gaping hole when Al gave him a curious glance. 

The demon shrugged. 

"I had a chance to get out once," Marj mused. The demon's form was obtuse, and he looked almost comical, the starry eyed expression twinkling in his eyes. "In Mongoon. After the war. Should have taken it." 

"Might be fun to take a vacation at least. Least she got that," Miller admitted. He shuffled uncomfortably, large hands creeping under the scaly armor to rub at a twisted muscle. Oww. The twitch was getting worse daily, and he dug deep, trying to find the knot buried way down deep that was causing all the pain. "Ten to one," he finally stated, "the marriage doesn't last six months." 

"Yeah. Faith. Not something you guys are big on, is it?" 

The foreign voice interjected into the fray was immediately, painstakingly, recognized. 

Al rolled his eyes, grumbled an obsenity that only he understood. Even the normally good-natured Marksy gave a grunt at the arrival. 

"How the hell did he get in here?!" 

The lawyer pushed away from the door frame, tie loose and hanging around his neck, hair scruffy and standing almost straight up on his head. His eyes were dark, hooded, angry. 

"So this is where you bastards congregate. Should have known." 

"Hey, it's the borne-again Lawyer Boy. How's tricks?" 

Lindsey MacDonald stood in the center of the Pressroom, hands fisted. "That's all you have to say to me?" he asked slowly. "All of you?" 

"All we want to say," Marj muttered, ducking his head behind Al to avoid being glared at. 

"That's great. Really great. You do that. Ignore me. Ignore her." 

"Oh, for craps' sake, get off it," Al blustered. "We all know you're in love with the little telekinetic-" 

"It's not about love. I never said that." He frowned, stepping forward, about to start in on another sermon when another Champion moved around him, focused completely on her palm pilot. "Cordelia?" 

Cordelia's mouth was pursed, features distracted as she looked up distantly. "Hey, Lindsey," she muttered absently, turning back to the table of Champions. Miller cocked an eyebrow as she rested her weight against his shoulder. 

"Watcha looking at, Light Bright?" 

"Testimony," she responded. "I just wanted to- LINDSEY?!" Suddenly the palm pilot flew into the air, and Miller scrambled to catch the small computer as the Champion whirled, eyes suddenly wide. 

"Lindsey?!" 

-- 

_end chapter._   
  
  



	8. Chapter Eight

**His Girl Friday: Chapter Eight**

_The visions? Oh, yeah, I've got visions coming out of my ears, sometimes a little blood, too, but---that doesn't make me a princess. That just makes me---kind of weird_ - Cordelia, Through the Looking Glass 

-- 

Lindsey MacDonald was back in a suit, but he still looked different than before, changed since she had last seen him, all those years ago. 

The man's chocolate brown eyes were deep, dark, intense, and for a second, she wondered if she was looking into Angel's own intense gaze... 

The guy had turned into a serious brooder. 

"What the hell is Lindsey MacDonald doing here?" she whispered, hand tightening around the scaly shoulder of Miller, eyes wide and expression startled as she gazed at the ex-lawyer shifting uneasily on the dirt packed floor. 

Craning his head to look around her, Miller dismissed the man with a single look. "Oh. Him. He's her Lawyer." 

"Who's lawyer?" 

"Bethany's." 

"What?!" Lindsey's eyes furrowed, but he said nothing, moving from Cordelia to the group of demons congregated around the wooden table. 

"You with these?" he asked, voice husky and rough, disgust edged in his voice. 

"What are you doing here?" Cordelia asked, pushing off of Miller and intercepting MacDonald, hand on his chest to keep him from moving around her. 

He stared at the eye contact, eyes shifting up to glance at her. "Didn't know you were still around." 

"Make that two," she snapped quickly, "Answer the question." 

"From what I know, Glowbug, Loverboy there worked out a deal with Wolfram and Hart, his soul for Bethany's or something if he was allowed to defend her." 

The answer was tossed out casually and without caring. 

"That's not what I was looking for, Marj, but thanks for being nosy," she tossed behind her. "Lindsey-" 

"I've got something to say to these bastards," he muttered, and this time Cordelia wasn't able to stop him as he shoved past her and directly to the table of loitering Champions. "Someone has to tell these bastards who the hell they really are." 

"Great... the 'who we are' speech,' Al mimicked, rolling his eyes as he snatched at the mouse with his hand, grinning when he caught the scurrying rodent. "Score!" 

"Pass." 

Cordelia blinked, arms crossed as her mind whirled, trying to process the information that she had just heard, but didn't quite understand. Once again her eyes flickered to the doorway of the entrance. 

"You'd think they'd lock it." 

"This is what's important to you?" Lindsey asked, fists shoved into his pockets as he glared. Eyebrow arching in puzzled contemplation, Cordelia studied the scene before her. Wow. He was really pissed. Why was he pissed? "This stupid game? A woman's life hangs in the balance. More than that, her SOUL-" 

"What the hell do you want US to do about it, Lindsey?" Miller growled, shooting straight up so that he towered a good two feet above the lawyer. "This isn't our fight." 

"No, it's not your fight. You just sit here, watch, wait- you won't give a damn. Is this what Champions do?" 

"Only on weekends," Cordelia remarked, rolling her eyes as she finally moved past him and settled into her place in the corner. Forget Lindsey. She was on a timetable here. 

Opening her laptop, Cordelia attempted to focus on the tiny green display. Lips pursed, the Seer leaned back, once again drawn to the band of demons as they huddled, monstrous frames over a slab of wood that looked ready to break under their combined weight. 

And the lawyer continued to circle around them, hands on his hips. 

"She's going to DIE! Can't you see that?" 

"Lindsey, just because you want to save your own ass, and screw the girl as a bonus, is no concern of ours." 

"You fuck. It's not like that." Cordelia's eyes once again flickered to the scene, eyes narrowing. He slammed his hands on the wood. "I never said I was in love with the girl. It's not about love, it's about saving a soul." 

"Hers or yours?" Miller queried, chin resting on his hands as he watched the mouse make a two pass. "Hit." 

"Pass." 

"I met that girl once. Just once, all right? On the street in Bakersfield." 

"Pass." 

"Score one, Al." 

"She looked sick, okay? Standing in the rain with just a coat, looked familiar. I asked her if she needed a ride. That's all! Any human being-" 

"Human being. Like you, Lawyer Boy?" Cordelia pursed her lips, tipping her laptop closed. What on earth... 

"Look. I'm not saying I'm perfect." Lindsey's hand ran through his hair, and she realized why it was so scruffy. The boy was big on messing with it. "I took her to my room and I kept her there to dry her off. That's all. The girl is a decent person. Wolfram and Hart screwed her, and I was just trying to help her. And you puppets sit here on your asses, not caring, not caring about what happens when you guys can DO something-" 

"Go away, Linds! We're busy!" 

"Yeah, why don't you go see your girlfriend? She's got a nice place." Miller grinned. 

"Won't have it long." 

Cordelia's eyes narrowed, heart stinging at the callous treatment that came with the territory of being a Champion. Hearts became numb, souls became gray... humanity no longer mattered to Higher Beings. 

The rush of the flames that licked through the Hell Portal made them all jump. 

Lindsey jerked his head, suddenly spotting the portal, the flames, hot and searing. "What the..." He moved forward, staring into it. "What the hell is that?" 

"Hell. For your girlfriend." 

Cordelia winced, taking in an unsteady breath as she slowly stood, Lindsey jerking around, eyes steel and hard, disbelieving. "You fucks. She's innocent. She had a damned hard life, no one's ever taken her seriously, cared enough to treat the girl decent, and YOU- LISTEN to me, DAMN YOU!" With one stride, Lindsey grabbed the mouse, threw it behind him. 

That got their attention. 

Suddenly he had eight Champions swirling around him. "Listen, you little runt. You've seriously gotten-" 

"Take me, if you can, Demon." 

Miller did, reaching forward with one long, taloned hand, directly toward Lindsey's neck. 

Oh, crap. 

In an instant, Miller was blocked by a flash of light that seared his hand light, forcing the demon champion to yelp, jumping back. Hissing, he glared at Cordelia, but she only smiled slightly, blocking the Champions from getting to Lindsey. "Down, boys. Lindsey, let's get out of here." 

"Cordelia-" 

"Come ON, they'll kill you." 

"Let them try, I've got an evil hand-" 

"Yeah? Al has five." Cordelia pushed, hard, shoving through the group of demons and keeping Lindsey moving toward the entrance of the portal. 

"They're inhuman bastards!" 

"Well... yeah," Cordelia remarked. "They're demons." 

"A girl's soul is in the balance. An innocent girl and those bastards-" 

"I know, Lindsey," Cordelia nodded mechanically, eyes narrowed in a glare as she finally succeeded in pushing Lindsey from the Pressroom. With one word, the wall slid closed, shutting out that world. Her world. 

-- 

The evil hand twitched, fingers that he hated clenched, closed his circulation, and once again Lindsey MacDonald cursed his past, cursed his heart, cursed his black soul. 

His heart was beating tremendously fast, too fast. 

Behind him, there was a soothing voice, soft and almost unrecognizable. 

"Calm down, okay? Just take a deep breath..." 

He closed his eyes, banging his fist against the brick, wincing at the pain. The red dust of the wall crumbled beneath his fingertips, and for a moment, it was the only color that mattered: red. 

A soft hand settled on his shoulder, pressure squeezing that massaged gently, almost in an unspoken rhythm, in sync with his heartbeat, moving slow, ever more slowly... 

He opened his eyes, found his panting slower, gentler. 

Turning, he found himself looking in Cordelia's hazel eyes. 

"Nice bout of righteous anger, you just had there, pal," she said frankly, words edged with a bite he had always remembered. "Especially considering that in the past, you've had absolutely no qualms about trying to kill ME." 

He blinked, staring hard at the Seer, older now, harder... beautiful and dangerous. 

"What are you doing in there?" he asked, voice a rasp. 

"Back to square one?" she asked. "Back atcha, buddy. Is it true what they said in there? You traded your soul for Bethany's?" 

Lindsey's heart heaved, shook within his ribcage, and suddenly the strength left him. He felt the hardness of the wall as it took his weight, and eyes rolled heavenward as he closed his eyes. 

"What soul?" he whispered. "What soul." 

"Umm... yours?" 

He slammed his fast back into the wall again, feeling the brick bite into his skin. The pain helped his focus, only slightly. "It's a bargain. They save her. I ... rejoin the partnership." 

"The partnership you... repeatedly... screwed?" Cordelia blinked. "Sorry, lawyer-boy, I'm just wondering why they aren't killing you, yet." 

"They probably will, it doesn't matter. She matters." 

"D'ya love her?" she asked, a matter-of-fact tone that seemed almost playful, out of place in his somber world. He almost winced at it. 

"That's not important." 

"Ah. Cause that's NEVER important." There was sarcasm in the Seer's voice, but her gaze was distracted, arms crossed, as if her attention, her mind, was elsewhere. "So... why'd you come here?" 

Lindsey's lips were chapped, his tongue darted nervously over them, feeling the cotton dryness of his throat. Coughing, he swallowed hard. "The case... it's... Bethany's... she's..." 

"Doomed?" 

"The Law Firm wins, they damn her soul anyway. And these guys... they're Champions... I... figured they had sat on their big asses long enough." 

"And pissing them off was going to rally the masses? I thought you were a lawyer." 

The irritating remark forced the bitterness back, and snake's eyes snapped and held the hazel beamed at him. "And I thought you didn't do this anymore. I was instructed that Cordelia Chase wouldn't be a problem." 

"Don't have very good teachers, then, do you?" Cordelia cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms and almost glaring. "I'm here. Not for long. I'm going to get Bethany pardoned, and then I'm going." 

The tone, so frank and without judgment and just... there, flooded him with a spark, a stab of hope that was unlike anything he had felt. Not recently. In the myriad of memories and bitterness, there had only been the hope of one woman, of a belief that if he could save ONE soul, just ONE, maybe he would have a CHANCE to feel something besides anger and hate... 

Cordelia Chase, last he heard, had been labeled a Champion. A higher being. He heard Lilah talking about it once, a few days ago. Her tinkling, irritating laughter as she held the wine glass to her lips, a one note joke about a 'Light Bright' who's light had 'fizzled out'. 

A glimmer of light blinking in the setting sun distracted him, made him focus on her left hand, third finger. 

There was a diamond on it. 

He blinked, letting that sink in. 

"Angel know?" 

"Oh, for the love of-" Sore spot, apparently. The Seer shifted her eyes away and gave an exasperated sigh, rubbing at her temple as if he had personally just given her a migraine. "That's not the point. Look... do me a favor... are you out of this?" 

"Not until she's free." 

The gaze she gave him was scrutinizing. He wondered at it. This wasn't the girl he knew. Not Angel's Seer, and not Angel's wife. 

This girl was Cordelia... and for some reason, the look she gave him, like she could see into his soul... it freaked him out. 

"Tell me then, what's going on with Wolfram and Hart. What they want with Beth, and why you decided to help." 

He took a breath, rubbing at his eyes, suddenly tired, dead.   
"Dancing with the devil, Cor?" 

She smiled at him, a knowing grin that made his eyes narrow, heart beat just a little faster. 

"Sweetie, I've met the devil. He's not all that." 

-- 

Cordelia Chase had a headache. 

The cool dusk air was breezy, and she was cold, thanks to forgetting her leather jacket in the other dimension. 

Fumbling slightly, Cordelia wrapped her arms around her slender body, hazel eyes darkening in through as their gaze touched up and down the deserted street. 

It was really something, the way the Powers that Be did things. The Pressroom, where the Higher Beings congregated was located in one of the seediest parts of town. It was a bad neighborhood, no question. Down every street, every corner, was isolation and despair, and yet... 

Here, hidden, almost invisible to everyone except for those who were looking for it, was the one stop hope shop. 

Nothing gaudy, different. Just... there. 

Her lips quirked slightly. Still, wouldn't have killed anyone any to do a little redecorating. At least the place could be pretty, even if the inhabitants, by human standards, weren't. 

Her smile faded as she turned, slowly reentering the abandoned Post Office, thoughts alive with Wolfram and Hart. The law firm, despite Angel's increased presence and newfound dedication in the mission, had only grown stronger. But their grip was slipping, and she knew, if Lilah lost this one, she would consider it not only significant, but personal. 

Cordelia's features tightened, her steps faltered as she considered. One soul, and worlds would tip. Lilah wouldn't take this lying down, not after losing Angel, especially not after losing Wesley. 

Her grip on the wooden frame nearly splintered it. 

Cordelia knew Lilah Morgan. She WAS Lilah Morgan. She knew all about icy exteriors and walls, she knew all about the desperate need to hold onto your bitchiness, your body, and your power over men in an attempt to hold your own against every other fucking 'good girl' in the world. 

Lilah had tried everything to keep Angel on the darkside. In the end, he had married Cordelia. 

Lilah managed to seduce Wesley, almost lost herself in the love/hate game, and even had him for a short while. 

He betrayed her, nearly killed her, for Faith. 

Cordelia swallowed. 

This wasn't going to be pretty. Whatever this trial stood for, the outcome for the losing and the winning party would equal an all out war. 

So why get herself involved? Why care? 

"Damn it, Cor. You were GOOD at being self centered once." The words were whispered in self recrimination, and Cordelia pushed away from the door frame, steps faster now, as she whispered the words, waved her hand, and flung herself into the Pressroom hallway. 

Just get it over with. Finish the character of witness, hand it to Angel, get the check, her fiancé and his mother, and just LEAVE. 

Los Angeles was infecting her, filling her, and even now, her concentration on her visionity had never been so real, so conscious. 

It was giving her a headache, the likes that she hadn't had in years. 

She had to get out of here. 

But Cordelia, ever present May Queen, former Princess of Pylea and Seer for the Powers that Be, found her steps slowing, her heartbeat quickening, and a very real rip of emotion slide through her as she entered the Press Room, and found a room of quiet demons, most twice her size. 

//-You, on the other hand, feel nothing, because you are a vicious bitch.   
-So. You know me.   
-Please. I was you. With better shoes.// 

Her eyes narrowed, and the disdainful, seeping anger that filtered into every syllable was real. 

"Well. If it isn't the Champions of the Innocent." 

There wasn't one that could meet her gaze for more than two seconds. 

The pulsing in her temples grew, and it distracted her, forcing her concentration off her colleagues and onto her headache instead. 

"Cordelia." 

The unfamiliar use of her real name made her pause, blink as she turned back to find Miller with his hand outstretched. 

"Call for you," he replied stiffly, large hand opening to reveal her open cell phone. 

Pulling one arm into her leather jacket in an attempt to ward off the sudden chill, Cordelia walked forward, plucking the phone out of his hand and holding it awkwardly to her head with her shoulder, as she attempted to shrug into the jacket with her other hand. 

"Hello?" 

"Cordelia?" 

She sighed, a welcome bout of relief sliding through her as she gave a soft smile. "Hey Douglas." 

"Cordelia... I ... in trouble." 

She froze, the tone in Douglas' voice panicked, scared... 

"What?" 

"I need help, Cordelia." 

"Where are you?" she asked, body frozen as she listened. 

"I'm... in jail." 

The jacket fell to the floor. 

"WHAT?!" 

"In jail. Downtown." 

"You're WHERE?!" 

"I got arrested-" 

"Well, how did you- what did you-" Cordelia's voice suddenly rose three octaves, to become something of a shrill yell, and when even SHE cringed from the tone, she had to stop. With a deep breath, and one sentence, "I'll be right there," Cordelia clipped the phone closed, grabbed her jacket, and whirled for the door. 

-- 

When the little Light Bright wanted to move, she really could move. 

Miller considered telling her about Skip's entrance, but even before his mouth was open, she had already plowed into the demon. 

The larger guy doubled over in a howl as she tripped. 

"Oh, God, sorry! Sorry!" Skipping on one foot to regain her balance, Cordelia flew (almost literally) to the door, leaving a limping Skip behind. 

"What is that..." 

"You all right, Skip?" Marksy asked, eyebrow cocked as the demon guide hobbled to the end of the table, grey hand massaging ruefully at one tender foot. 

"Forget sabers, swords, light brights... that girl's HEELS are a BITCH." He blinked, once again looking toward the now empty doorway. "What's going on in here?!" 

"Douglas is in trouble," Gypsy stated matter-of-factly, head buried in the book he had been reading all this time, never lifting his head. 

"Man forgets hanky, Mama goes to wipe nose," Marj stated, a grin looming on his features. 

"I still give that marriage six months," Miller groused, leaning over the table to pluck Cordelia's palm pilot from her chair. 

"What the HELL are you talking about?!" 

Oh, yeah. Skip. Arrogant Bastard. 

"What do you want, Skip?" Al asked, looking almost comical, hunched over the way he was, trying to find the escaped mouse in the corner. "That you had to go and lower yourself to join us meager Champions." 

"Stuff it, okay?" Giving his foot one final pat, Skip finally put it down, testing the weight with a small hiss of pain. "I'm checking up. You guys all know your positions, right?" 

The impatience of the day was quickly wearing on Miller. With a growl of frustration, he slapped the saber on Skip's ass. 

He yelped, turning to glare at him. 

"Why can't you kill this girl at five instead of seven? I know you're dying for her ass." 

"Ah. And I suppose seven is just TERRIBLY inconvenient for YOU," Skip groused, jerking the saber away from him. 

"I'm bored." 

"I can't change what the Powers have set." 

"Oh, SURE he can't," Al said. He looked grumpy. The mouse was long gone. "But you can stall the judgement until the last possible minute so Wolfram and Hart could defend the case, now couldn't you?" 

The look Skip gave the demon could have drawn blood. "I had nothing to do with that. All right? If it was up to me, this girl would be damned. You know her destiny as well as I do." 

"So why the red tape?" 

"You know the Powers, like to try and keep things fair. What with Angel Investigations running around like puppets trying to save her pretty little-" 

"Angel Investigations is beating a dead horse." There was just enough malice behind that to force Miller to glance up, but there was no grin on Skip's face. The demon just looked pissed. "That vampire likes to play sides, and he's not playing this one. It's time that vampire got put in his place once and for all. He's no Champion." 

"What about the Light Bright? She's in on this too, you know. Got a fighting chance." 

That got a reaction. Skip's gaze locked on his, and something told Miller, Skip believed him. "She's not in this for long. You heard her. She's getting married." 

The laughter came before he could help it, and it didn't help Skip any when the other Champions joined in. 

"Shut up." 

-- 

She had gotten out for a full five years before she had been pulled back in. 

She hated all it stood for. She hated what the job was. What it meant. 

But she could never really stay away from it, and when they opened the special 'X-Files' department (due to the excessive paranormal activity in Los Angeles that even THEY couldn't ignore anymore) and offered her the badge and gun back to run it, she had said no. 

Repeatedly. 

Until she couldn't say no anymore, when she said yes. 

This was the one time she regretted it. 

If it was one person in the entire world that Kate Lockley was just NOT in the mood to ever see again, it was Cordelia Chase. 

It was a surreal nightmare, and it was one that made her keep her grip on her gun, and her free hand on her head, irritation giving way to plain resilience. 

"I didn't STEAL any watch, Cordelia!" 

The steel bars that held Douglas Sanderson III were dirty, but he didn't seem to care. His face was pressed between them, and he stared beseechingly at them from behind them. 

She had to hand it to Cordelia. He was no Angel. But he was cute. 

Someone snapped fingers in her face. There was a diamond speck masquerading as a ring on the left hand. "Kate! Over here." 

Kate blinked, once again moving from Cordelia to the fiance'. 

Curious, she had to ask. "Does Angel know?" 

"OH, FOR THE LOVE OF-" Apparently, Cordelia had a headache, she kept rubbing at her temples like she had an itch. "Just let him out." 

Kate sighed, once again locking eyes with the former Seer. 

"Cordelia, you're screwed. He's already booked." 

"But I'm innocent! I've never stolen a watch in my life!" 

"Yes, sweetie, I know you didn't," Cordelia said mechanically, turning again to glare at Kate with hazel bursts of anger. "Come on, Kate. Let him out." 

The detective sighed. It was because of this woman that she had those three grey hairs on the back of her head. "I can't, Cordelia," she repeated. "He's accused of stealing a watch, and they found the watch on him." 

"But I NEVER STOLE THE-" 

"Douglas, please. Shut up." Reaching behind her to pat absently at the hands flailing from between the bars, Cordelia kept her gaze locked. "Really," she said flatly. "Who accused him? Wesley. Wesley! Hello! Ex-Wolfram and Hart Employee? Ex-EVIL?!" 

"Current do-gooder?" Kate interrupted. "Come on, Cordelia. The evidence-" 

"Is shit! Let him out!" 

"Right, because you saying it THREE times in the last minute is really gonna just make the law books just completely disappear." 

"You KNOW this is crap!" 

Kate took in a breath, closing her eyes in an effort to count to ten. Slowly. One. Two. Three. 

"I'm going to KILL that weasely-" 

Her eyes shot open. "Cordelia. You're in a police station. You make a threat, I'll have to book YOU, too." 

"Kate!" 

"Hey, Cordelia- I know about Wes, okay? But I can't just let him go, just because YOU say so!" 

"But I didn't STEAL ANY-" 

"Shut UP, Douglas!" Her voice marked in perfect sync with Cordelia's, and both woman blinked at each other in surprise, as the hapless fiancé shut his mouth and leaned miserably against the bars. 

"Okay, enough. Are you going to let him out, or aren't you?" 

Kate crossed her arms. "No." 

"Oh?" 

"Higher Being, or whatever crap you're calling yourself these days, Cordelia, I can't bend the rules." 

Cordelia glared. She glared back. Cordelia glared some more. Kate shifted her feet, and glared back. 

There had always been a lot of glaring between the two of them. 

But this was it. The foot was down. It wasn't coming back up. 

"Bail?" 

"One thousand." 

"Fine. Take a check?" 

"Long as it's certified." 

"I hate you." 

"Nice to see you, too, Cordelia. Please follow the deputy to the cashiers." 

One more glare, for old time's sake, and Cordelia was down the hallway, heels clicking and clacking in her wake. 

Kate held her hands on her hips, eyes narrowing as she shook her head, looking back to study the fiancé. 

Pursing her lips, she managed a small, grim smile, before turning away, through the cells, and into her office. 

"You two are so full of shit." 

The two figures lounging in her office both gave her beautifully fake smiles. 

"But Ms. Lockley," Wesley sounded sincere and hurt, standing and patting at his jacket. "I couldn't be more truthful." 

"If he was lying," Faith smirked. Did the girl ever learn how to sit right? Just SIT in a chair without treating the damned thing like finding new ways to straddle suggestively was an Olympic sport? 

"Just tell Angel the guy owes me big," Kate finally said, closing her office door, pushing Faith's boots roughly to the ground from where they perched on her desk. "Once of these days that guy is going to have to catch up with this century and learn that a divorce is actually a DIVORCE." 

"How'd Cor take it?" Faith asked. 

"If she could have, she would have fried me," Kate said matter-of-factly, scribbling at a report in her hand, before casting a blue-hued glare at the employees of Angel Investigations. "And the next time you two want to frame the poor guy, can you make it a LITTLE more believable? I can't believe YOU actually TRIED the 'he stole my watch' trick. Even *I* watched that movie." 

"Pretty fucking good movie, though, right, Wes?" 

"A personal favorite of mine." 

"Get out. I don't want to see you in here again. And tell Angel this is the LAST TIME. I still like to PRETEND to follow the rules, even where he's concerned." 

"Lovely to see you again, Kate." Charming to the last, Wesley gave a small smile, pulling his girlfriend out of her seat and towards the door. 

"See you later- 'bout six?" 

SIX?! Kate's eyes widened, and her head jerked up. 

"Hey! Wait- what the hell are you two planning at si-" 

The door slammed so hard the glass almost broke in the dusted mirror. 

Shit. 

--   


_END CHAPTER._   



	9. Chapter Nine

**HIS GIRL FRIDAY******

**Chapter Nine**

_"Don't come at me through Cordelia ever again. You play that card a second time, I'll kill you."_   
Angel - That Vision Thing 

-- 

She often wondered how the sight of blood had become just the stain of red against her fingertips. 

It was odd, really. And just plain weird. 

Inspecting her fingernails, Cordelia noticed with some consternation that the red flakes had dried under them. 

Clean up was going to be a bitch. Taking in a breath, she wiped at the bangs that tumbled over her forehead. The office was abnormally silent, thanks to one quiet, hurt vampire. 

She welcomed it. The chaos the battle had left behind more than a few scars, but it was no secret that Angel, who nearly had his heart cut out, had endured the worst of the scrapes. 

"What?" 

"Hmm?" she murmured back absently, rubbing the red into the towel as she cleaned her hands, turning back to find her vampire husband just where she left him. Leaning against the desk, Angel's shirt hung open, white tank-top ripped to shreds and stained with blood. 

It still made her wince. 

"What are you thinking?" he elaborated, a smile turning quickly into a grimace as he shifted against the desk. 

"I'm thinking that death was too good for that idiot demon," she responded, shoulders deflating as she came forward. "Come on." He let out a small hiss, a whisper of cold breath against her shoulder as she smoothed her hands gently over his shoulders, pushing the ruined shirt away from his body. Again, her fingertips were soft as they prodded at the wound, less than a millimeter from where his still heart lay. "Remind me to kill you," she snapped. 

"It's wasn't my fault-" 

"Yes, it was, dumbass. You know just as well as anyone that Faith can damned near kick your ass. There was absolutely no need to go heroic and push her out of the way like that. You're damned masochistic, Angel, and it pisses me off." 

It was a faltering rant, and even Cordelia had to glumly note that there had been less bite than bark in her voice lately. The matriarchal role had, for some odd, suspicious reason, landed in HER hands here at Angel Investigations, and now it seemed that she was more or less obligated to be the voice of reason. 

Coming from a young woman who once wished to live in a fascist society just so a friend couldn't be framed for murder, it was quite a development. 

Then again- this was also in a group where a convicted murderer had recently saved a life of a young former slave almost at the expense of her own, where an ex-gangster called his girlfriend a 'pookie-bear' (Cordelia heard that and never, ever could look at Gunn the same way. Ever.) and most importantly, where a vampire who had been responsible for the death of countless people loved and married a woman who became a demon to save him, who fathered a son who was ripped away horribly, and then miraculously and painfully returned to him. 

He stroked her now, her eyes closing with a sigh as she leaned forward, forehead resting against his. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Yeah... well... You should be." The smile she flashed him was tight, quick, but it made him grin slightly back, the moment of silence between them all she really needed to reassure herself that they were still here, still alive, to fight another day. "Move back a little, okay?" 

He obeyed, scooting further onto the desk as she pushed his thighs apart to stand between his legs, cleaning quickly, before the wound had a chance to close on his super healing body. 

From outside the door, they heard a shriek of laughter, followed by a groan of defeat. 

"DEAD, DEAD, DEAD! You are SO DEAD!" 

"Connor! Don't be a bad sport!" 

Cordelia met Angel's eyes, a quirk of amusement tipping her smile up slightly. 

"Angel's gonna kick your ass, that was his favorite controller." 

"Connor broke my joystick-" 

"Hold it," Cordelia planted a palm firmly on his chest, pushing him back. "He'll buy you a new one. Don't move until I'm done." 

He shifted, eyes now focused on the door, most likely concentrating on his poor witty controller, held onto for special purposes. Vampire reflexes or now, it was only because of that controller that Angel had beaten Gunn at his video game. 

The last time they had a chance to play was month ago. Once again the smile froze, her heart thudded inside of her, and she bit her lip, finishing the wrapping around Angel's torso with a jerk, turning away. 

"Okay. You're done." 

She kept her eyes on her tools as she cleaned up, wiping at the blood at her body, silent. 

Her husband caught her by surprise, a gentle palm circling around her wrist, smooth and silky. That was always something that surprised her about Angel's hands. They were always smooth, unmarred by scars and callouses. 

Some would say they were prettier than hers. She wouldn't. But someone might. 

When his free hand snaked around her waist, she avoided his gaze, turning toward him as led her, eyes trained on the gauze wrapped around his naked chest. 

His finger tilted her chin up, and she was forced to stare into the concerned dark eyes. 

"What." 

"Nothing, it's..." she managed a weak smile. "It's stupid." 

"Cordelia..." She tried to turn away, but he held her firm. "What?" 

His hand was rubbing circles gently into her palm, pulling her closer, and it was the sincerity that did it. 

"Just selfish... it's..." she broke off, almost exasperated in an attempt to come up with the right words. "I- there seems to be nothing but badness lately, you know? This hotel, this desk... this office, it's just... every time we spend a night alone here, or with the gang it's always because of blood and death, and..." She shrugged helplessly. "It's stupid... Just a moment of regression. You know... Cordy always having to make it about her, and all." 

He didn't buy it. But she wasn't sure he completely got it either, because he spend a full ten seconds just staring at her. 

Then he kissed her. 

It was an altogether different kiss than any he had given her lately. This was no desperate, lingering embrace, not an attack of passion or a simple caress that said 'I love you, and I just though you might want to know in case I die tonight'. 

What it was, was ... nice. 

His head tilted, and his mouth opened, and when his hand on her chin pushed, his tongue invaded for a sweet, lingering embrace. 

Her eyes closed, she kissed back, gentle, always gentle as she whispered a breathless, intelligible word against his lips and pressed closer. 

She felt his caress on her cheek, knuckles grazing delicately, tilting, opening her mouth further, inviting himself in. Fingers slid up bare skin, with a whisper soft touch, her shirt was gently shrugged off one shoulder. 

Cool digits skimmed, sending shivers, and even then, with her hands massaging at his hips, she could still feel the warmth that came from the coolness of his touch. 

And still, she kissed him. 

Niceness gave way to passion, passion quickly gave way to lust, and it was then her soul splintered with hope, when Angel flicked his tongue delicately against her breathless lips, she heard him whisper, "Then lets make some good ones." 

She loved him. 

She fucking loved him. 

The laughter bubbled up before she could help it, and when his face lit up in a beautiful grin, she stared, millimeters from his lips as she pushed him back against the desk. 

"Oww! Careful!" 

"Shhh..." She indicated toward the door, a mischievous smirk now accompanying her light hearted mood. 

"Ahhhh... Cordelia Chase, you are a very ambitious woman..." 

"How so?" she whispered, fingers now nimbly pulling at the belt at his hips, jerking it out of his belt loops before pulling on the zipper. 

"If you think I'm not going to make you scream..." 

The challenge was issued. Unforgettable. 

Mouths slid hotly against each other, and then Cordelia got adventurous. The pens clattered to the floor, followed by the bookend, and she yelped when the scissors almost cut into her back. 

"Are you all right?!" 

Fred. Angel buried his head into her neck, shoulders shaking with morose laughter. Cordelia, caught between trying to keep her balance on her precarious perch and trying to contain her own mirth, found her voice trembling. 

"Fine! Don't come in!" 

"You sure?" 

"FINE, Gunn! Don't come in!" 

She was still laughing, some ten minutes later, when she fell off the desk. 

When Faith walked in to find a tangle of limbs and two naked bosses, she never even blinked. 

"It's okay," she said over her shoulder, turning around and slamming the door behind her. "They're just screwing on the desk." 

-- 

"I can't imagine who would do a thing like that to me." 

Cordelia was silent, jaw ticking as she leaned, casual to the innocent observer. The car continued to speed along at a merry fifty miles an hour, despite the honks and shrill screams from people jumping out of it's way. 

The gaze in her eyes was sharp as flint, and in her distracted smile was a hidden venom only one person in the world had been able to pinpoint. 

She was going to kill him. 

"I can't think of any enemies I have." 

The words drifted through the disaffected haze, and it was almost amusing, to think of sweet, gentle Douglas with enemies. Her palm stroked his reassuringly, shook out of her thoughts as she turned and have him a smile. 

"No, Douglas, I'm sure you have-" Immediately, her mind, still full of Angel, clicked onto something else. "Do you still have the check?" 

"Cordy? Eyes on the road..." When she narrowed her gaze, he blinked away from the traffic, and gave a nod. With a grim smile, Douglas shifted in the front seat, maneuvering to get at his socks, pulling down away the modest white to peel out the folded rectangle. "I never got that. Why are you going to stick it in your socks? Wouldn't it get all smelly and gross-" 

"You think my feet get smelly and gross?" 

He paused, realized his mistake when she arched a cool eyebrow, and gave a nervous smile. "Course not." 

She winked, good humor brought back just a bit at his sheepish grin. "No enemies, huh?" 

"Yeah... well..." He rubbed at his wrists, raw remnants of handcuffs still visible. "Ya know, first I thought it might have been something to do with Angel, but that's stupid..." 

She snorted, a very unlady-like snort, but it got her point across. "Oh yeah? Why?" 

Picking through his jacket, Douglas seemed slightly distracted. "Cordelia." His tone was almost condescending. "He's not that bad of a guy." 

"Oh really," she replied flatly, eyes on the road. 

"Yeah. He is." 

"Right." He was still fidgeting through his things. "What?" she asked. 

"I..." he looked worried, patting at his pockets and then through his jacket. "My wallet. I lost it." Visible frustration edged his voice. "I can't seem to find it." 

There was nothing but resignation in Cordelia's voice as she nodded her head. "Of course you lost your wallet." Wesley, I'm going to kill you. Dead. Deader than a door nail. More dead than that. 

"And that picture of us in Bermuda- that's gone too..." 

"May as well give them for lost, sweetie," she said flippantly. "It's okay, I have the money, remember?" 

"But my credit cards-" 

"You can cancel them later. Trust me. They won't be using them for a while. Too many important people to make completely miserable," she muttered, hands tightening on the steering wheel as she shifted into the turn, tires screeching. 

He cursed, apologizing almost immediately afterwards, and then gave another "dammit". 

"Douglas-" 

"Cordelia-" 

"Just let it go," she said, eyes narrowing. "You'll find lots of things missing." 

Damn you, Angel. 

The next turn caused the car to nearly do a slight wheelie, but Cordelia wasn't taking any more chances. 

This was a game, and she was losing fast. 

She should have known. 

She should have known. 

"Cordelia, maybe you should think about slowing dow-" 

"Shut up, Doug. Your mother is waiting and you KNOW how she hates to be kept waiting." 

"True, but... I think she'd like to see me in one piece, don't you?" He lurched, scrambling for his seatbelt as he yelped, when Cordy skidded across the street and rolled into the curb. 

There. Perfect. 

Pushing at the door, Cordelia slammed it behind her. "Stay here," she ordered. "In the car. Where it's safe." 

Douglas took one look at the depreciating buildings and managed a gulp. "Safe from who? That guy on the corner with the knife?" 

"No, from Angel. You'll be fine. That's just Marty, and it's just for show. He's a guard." 

"Of what?" 

"The pressroom." 

"The what?! Cordelia!" 

"I'll be back in three minutes, Douglas. Be good, and STAY." The order was clipped, barked, and Cordelia pointed a finger at him to make sure he didn't move, before finally turned away and clipping up the steps of the old Post Office. 

-- 

Damned nosy demons. 

Miller had to admit, he was just as curious as the rest of 'em, but he even had to respect personal boundaries when it came to the Light Bright. She had established that the first day he met her, where she spouted something to them about 'personal boundaries' and 'bubbles' in that screechy language humans chose to use. 

Even then, her words were so inundated with slang and what not it had taken him three weeks just to understand one sentence. 

Such was the lesson he had learned, and as a result, Miller did the best he could to warn off the others from Cordelia's palm pilot. 

"She's gonna be pissed that you're looking at it," he groused, crossing arms and elevating feet as he closed his eyes, ignoring the group of Champions as they picked across the pilot. 

"This is ... damn... we're going to be here forever, you know that?" Marksy asked, the burst of pessimism unusually uncharacteristic. 

Miller propped open an eye. Hmmm. If Marksy was having issues... 

This must be more serious than he originally thought. 

"Still say she's going to be mighty pissed if you guys don't back away from that little character of witness, thing." 

"Since when have you stopped on the dime everytime the Light Bright asked?" 

"Since she fried my ass for trying to kill that stupid Slayer of hers," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Listen to this: 'Into this tortured mind came the idea that her powers, her gifts that were the only hope of a wounded soul, should have been produced for use. The use that was manipulated, changed, and bartered before she had a chance. Into her fractured conscious was a hope for a future that was fragmented, and unless a miracle occurs, Bethany's soul will be severed from her body..." 

Al gave a low whistle. "Girl shoulda been a lawyer, not a Champion." 

Champion after Champion gave each other uneasy looks, and even Miller, shaken enough to open his eyes, pulled his foot from the table, pushing himself with a groan from the creaking wood of his chair. 

"She's got her heart in that damned thing," he muttered. "And anyone that calls themselves a Champion and means it ain't gonna go and throw it all away for a little humanoid moron who thinks he can actually sell LIFE insurance." 

Al let out a low laugh. "Selling Life! Insurance against death! This WORLD!" He scratched his head at the very idea. 

"HA!" Miller swiped the palm, peering at the little black characters shining against the screen. "Now I'm giving that marriage three months, and I'm going three to one. Any takers?!" 

"I'll that that bet." Frozen, Miller felt the hot glare before he saw it. Shivering, he turned, pilot burning in his hands as Cordelia Chase strode into the room, pushing past Bugsy, and sending Al flying. "WHO said you could touch my Palm Pilot!?" 

Miller blinked, looked back down, saw he still had it, and took a step back. "I... uh... well, Light Bright- THEY STARTED IT!" 

"Nevermind," she snapped, snatching it away and pushing it into her purse, eyes perusing the room in a sharp glare. "What? I can't even leave the room before you guys start talking about me like a bunch of Nancy Boys?" 

"Who you calling a Nancy boy, Glow Bug?!" 

"You, idiot," she remarked, pushing herself up onto the table and opening her cellphone. "Fine. I can take an audience." 

"Awww, come on, Cordy. We didn't mean nothing," Al wagged his tail, trying his best to appear like his typical puppy dog self. "We were just saying that you're one of us. You aren't no quitter. Not in your blood." 

"You being demon and all," Marj added. 

"Oh, I can quit all right." Cordelia's eyes were glazed with a hidden fire. Cheeks were burning a bright red, and her back was as straight as an iron rod. "Listen guys, okay? Because I'm going to explain this one more time. I'm getting married because I WANT to. I'm going to get out of this, and I'm going to live like a HUMAN BEING. I'm not gonna embrace this demonic blood, and I'm going to THANK GOD, or whoever that I have no horns OR a tail, and I'm going to get the hell outta Dodge and-" Words suddenly mooshed together in fervent emotion, Cordelia cut herself off, punching furiously at her phone and holding it to her ear, ignoring them all in the sudden silence that followed. 

After a few moments, she began to speak again, this time, in a sugary, entirely too sweet voice. 

"Angel? Hey, sweetie. Hmm? Oh yeah, I got the interview, all right. Got past Skip and everything. I'm even hanging out with my boys over here." 

"Hear that?" Someone whispered in Miller's ear. "We're her boys!" 

"Get off of me before I impale ya," he grumbled, shoving Bugsy away. 

"Yeah, but look- I just found out something really important. It was a vision." She smiled. "Oh yeah! I had one of those! Can you believe it! I know! It's like a second calling! But I need you to listen, Angel- sure- maybe you should get a pencil and paper..." 

"You had a visi-" 

"Shut UP, Marj," she hissed, hand clapped over the receiver as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

He immediately clamped his mouth shut. 

"No, not you, Angel," she said softly. "Sure. You ready? Okay..." Suddenly she bolted off the desk, "Good-" Her voice suddenly dropped two octaves, and could have shaved ice. "Now, listen, you dimwitted, soul-laded, impotent asshole." 

Miller blinked. Yipes. 

"You screwed it, Mister. You, Mr. Broody Asshole, just screwed yourself because I'm not DOING that damned character of witness, soul or not. You think Wes is smart enough to frame my boyfriend? Then have him save her soul! And I'm taking that damned check with me, and I'm on the NEXT FLIGHT, and if you even come NEAR me I'm going to -" She paused, most likely hearing something on Angel's side. "Ohhhhh... you don't know what I'm talking about? Well, why don't you ask Miss Slutser Slayer?!" 

The phone was slammed down with a clap, and Miller was shoved aside as Cordelia marched past him, grabbed her jacket, and proceeded to stuff her left hand into the right arm hole with shaking thrusts. 

"AND THAT! Is my goodbye! I'm going to be a wife, damn it." Miller blinked, stunned into silence as the rest of the demons stood as well, jumping out of the Light Bright's way before her heels got to them too. "I'm getting OUT of here, I'm moving to GOD DAMNED MAINE, and I'm going to have HUMAN babies- or adopt... might not want to lose my figure, and I'm going to-" 

The phone began to ring again. Miller nudged it with his foot, looking quizzically at Marksy. 

He shrugged. 

Shrugging back, Miller reached down and picked it up. 

"Hello?" 

"Is Cordelia there?" 

"Angel?" 

"Hey, there... she there?" 

"Hold on." Holding the tiny phone delicately, Miller roved the room until he managed to catch up with Cordelia, who at the moment was slamming her sunglasses into her purse. "Cordelia? It's Ang-" 

With a purpose-filled stride, Cordelia lunged forward and grabbed the phone from his hand. 

Yelping, Miller held the abused fingers to his mouth, moving back. 

"AND ONE MORE THING... Hey..." Cordelia blinked, found in her haste, she had accidently hit the 'end' button. "SHIT." Shoving the phone into her purse, she nearly tripped over Marj. 

Miller nursed his wounded digits, and moved to the corner. 

He wasn't taking anymore chances with her and those heels. 

-- 

"Cordy! Cor!" Angel slammed the phone down, closing his eyes and grabbing at his hair in frustration. "See? I told you it wouldn't work." 

Fred blinked. "You told ME?!" 

-- 

The manacles were so last year. 

Bethany had a permanent glower on her face, features tinted with ash, legs aching from sitting in a very uncomfortable stone slab for more than an hour. 

"Is this going to take any longer?" she finally asked, narrowing her eyes up at her captor. 

Lilah Morgan, hair cut fashionably short, in a film noir thing that reminded Bethany of one of those thirties talky movies that she had liked so much as a kid, gave her a stupid cat-like smile over her briefcase. 

"What's the rush? You've got eternity." 

Oh, fucking ha-ha. 

Rolling her eyes, she shifted again, grimacing at the dead feeling in her butt as she looked up at the dark caverns of the hell dimension. Damn. Couldn't they at least have damned her in a place with a little more color? 

"I'd so kill you if I could," she barked. 

Lilah once again barely gave her an amused grin. "Yes, I know. That's my whole argument. You're not hard to defend, Bethany." 

"Shut up. I can't believe I ever liked you." 

"Me neither. No one likes me. No accounting for taste, either." 

She hated her. She hated, hated, hated her. 

Bethany's butt got colder, and colder. 

"I thought hell dimensions were supposed to be HOT." 

"They are, when I'm in the room," came the quip, and Bethany rolled her eyes again, this time during Skip's entrance. 

She hated him too. 

"Sorry I'm late," he answered, throwing Lilah Morgan a grim smile as he jogged into the room. "Damned Champions. Bunch of arrogant louts." 

"Believe me, you know one, you know them all." Lilah Morgan reminded her kinda of Xena the way she stood and firmly shook hands with the guy. "Great complexion, by the way." 

"Thanks. I moisturize." 

"I hurl," Bethany muttered. 

They ignored her. 

"You ready to get started?" 

"Been waiting for you." Lilah turned to her books, pulling papers out of her briefcase. "You do know your little flutterbudget is on the case, right?" 

"Your nemesis?" Skip asked, head tilting teasingly. 

"Ahh... no. Cordelia Chase is the thorn in my side. My nemesis is a little Slayer BRAT that stole my..." Lilah Morgan managed to calm herself, forcing another smile. "But we won't talk about it." 

"Please," Bethany breathed, shifting in his chair. 

They ignored her. Again. 

"Right. Well, Cordelia won't be a problem. She wants to be out of this just as much as we want her to stay out of it. I saw my girl. She's been broken." Skip sighed, rubbing at his shoulder. "Not a place I ever thought she'd be." 

"Yeah. Boo hoo. You know, Skip- she gets involved, things get complicated." 

"They won't. She won't, okay?" 

Bethany groaned, rubbing fingers through her hair. "Guys?! I'm a little tired now, can I go back to hell now?" 

"Oh... Bethany. Forgot you were here. No." 

Her butt was asleep now. 

It hurt. 

And it pissed her off. 

-- 

The rage had settled somewhat, and even though there was a still the tight aching of a trembling heart, Cordelia could safely say that she had manage to compose herself somewhat to a relieved bout of nostalgia. 

Clasping hands with Miller, Cordelia felt herself smile, a genuine grin of affection. 

"It was great to see you again." 

Miller, a brave demon, she'd give him that, ruffed up her hair with a large palm. "So long, Light Bright." 

"Hey!" Glaring good-naturedly, she nudged him slightly. "NEVER touch the hair!" 

"Light Bright!" 

So many familiar faces, and the smile on her face seemed uncontained, a heart ready to burst as she moved toward the door, slowly, turning to give the room of Champions her smile and her heart. 

"Guys, this is it. I'm leaving now. For good." 

Miller snorted. "Yeah. Famous last words." 

"And the last ones," she enunciated. "Next time you see me, I'll be driving an SUV with a trunk full of kids." She paused at the entrance, arms spread out wide. "That's right, fellas- while you guys are crawling through sewers and severing limbs in an attempt to help the helpless, I'll be baking brownies, and sucking popcorn-" 

Al laughed, clearly enjoying the show.   
  
"Don't forget about me, guys. Cause GOD KNOWS I'm gonna try to forget all about you, and when that big ass road unfolds-" 

Her dramatic exit was suddenly cut short when the entire place erupted in a siren that nearly popped her eardrums. 

Portal after portal opened around them, and The Champions stood, hands reaching for weapons, whirling around them. 

"What the..." 

The pounding resonated in the halls, and even Cordelia stood, wide-eyed as the chaos moved in the room. 

"What's happened?!" 

The hell dimension door was wide open, and she stayed at the opposite corner, dry-mouthed as her friends and colleagues scrambled to the opening. 

"WHAT?! What's happened?!" 

"She's escaped!" 

Cordelia blinked. 

Oh, god. Oh, God- OHGODOHGODOHGOD- 

"Damned HUMAN- GO! GO!" 

And with a clatter of chaos, the Champions flew from the room, weapons flashing, collapsing into the hell dimension where the telekinetic girl had escaped. 

In the end, Cordelia Chase was left alone in the Pressroom, human heart pounding. 

Oh, God. Oh, God. 

In two seconds her cellphone was out and the speedial pushed. 

"Angel," she breathed quickly, "She's out. She escaped. NO, I had nothing to do with it! Yes, dumbass, I KNOW we have to find her- I KNOW, Lardass. Yes, I'll look. Get your ass moving, and put Wes and Faith on the case- Yes. Yes. Bye." 

The cellphone was stuffed into her jacket and without another thought, Cordelia launched into a run, heels and all, grabbing a scythe from the weapons closet and dove into the dimension, before it closed in on the empty Pressroom.   


_End chapter_   



	10. Chapter Ten

**HIS GIRL FRIDAY : Chapter Ten**

_"Awww, gee, Gunn, much as I would love to endure another soul-splitting agonizing psychic invasion for your benef- OWW!" _- Cordelia, Fredless 

-- 

There was something supremely sad about the way Douglas Sanderson III sat in the seat of the car. 

Idle and completely whipped, the insurance salesman gave a small whistle as he stared out of the passenger side of the car, the cold, dark building looming up before him. 

This was where all the crazy stuff happened. This was where all those stories Cordelia never told him. Here. In this place. 

In this dark alley. 

With the dark creatures. With the guy with the gun, and the guy peeing in the corner, and the guy throwing up- 

"99 bottles of beer on the wall," he suddenly blurted. "99 bottles of beer!" Tugging at his tie, Douglas settled back uneasily, shifting back into his seat and checking his watch. "Take one down... pass it around... 98 bottles of beer..." 

Cordelia, can you GET here now? 

"98 bottles of beer on the wall-" 

The low chuckling that came out of nowhere caught the song in his throat. With a chortle, Douglas swiveled in his seat, and suddenly found a dark-haired girl grinning. 

Douglas blinked, the familiarity coming back to him as she tilted her hair, dark tendrils cascading down almost bare shoulders. 

"Faith." 

"Douglas," she returned. The low purr caused an uneasy smile on Douglas' face, because Faith, with her black tattoo painted seductively on her arm, and her darkly beautiful face, looked as much a part of this as Cordelia had. He felt such an outsider, and it scared him. "Fancy meeting you here." 

He nodded, flickering his gaze back to the old closed Post Office behind them. "I'm just waiting for Cordelia." 

"What? She left a hot guy like you all alone on this empty wasteland of a street?" Faith clucked her tongue and whistled. "Sounds like she's got her priorities all screwed, doesn't it?" 

"She'll be back soon," he replied mechanically. "She's only going in to get her stuff and she said she'd be right back." 

"Right. How long ago was that?" 

He checked his watch. "Twenty-five minutes ago." 

"Ah." 

"She'll be back soon," he repeated. "We've got a flight to catch and Cordelia knows my mother-" 

"Does she?" Faith queried . Lounging against the car door, Faith continued to study him with unnerving scrutiny. Douglas had never understood the expression 'undressing with their eyes' until just about now. He crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap. 

"Yeah," he croaked, suddenly raspy. "They get along really well- what are you doing here?" 

"Oh, me?" Faith shrugged, moving back slightly to dig into the pockets of her black pants. Her very tight black pants. "You know, typical Slayer stuff. Bored stiff, actually. You know, after a few years of this shit, it's all the same." She turned, producing a cigarette box and tapping out a long stick. "Ya know?" 

He smiled politely. "I guess. Not really, no. It all sounds pretty exciting, the way Cordelia tells it." 

"The way she tells it," Faith remarked, laughing idly. "If that was true, why the hell do you think she left?" Eyeing him, she suddenly winked. "Greener pastures, or some shit like that." 

"I... guess." 

Now his concentration focused on the stick that Faith was caressing, gently, ever so gently. Rubbing it, she kept a smooth rhythm, massaging the cigarette, then suddenly wrapping her lips around it, sucking it lightly. 

She paused. "You okay?" 

He blinked, suddenly pulling at his tie. "I... uh... Fine. Maybe I should go and look for Cord-" 

"She's fine," With a broad palm, Faith pushed him back into his seat, suddenly inches away when she plucked the cigarette out of her mouth and teased it along his lips. "Got a light?" 

"FAITH!" Saved. Douglas was saved. The exhalation of relief was stopped short when suddenly a hand loomed out of nowhere and slammed down on the back of the Slayer's head. Faith yelped, the cigarette crumpling into the seat as she straightened, and inadvertently smacked her head on the car door. 

"FUCK, Fred!" 

The other girl became visible as the very angry Faith whirled. It was the cute, thin girl from the hotel. The taller woman seemed angry, hands on her hips as she ignored Douglas and zeroed in on Faith. "I TOLD you not to do this!" 

"Fuck off, Fred. I was just-" 

"You were just gonna- I know what you were gonna do! I'm not letting this happen! I'm not!" 

"HEY!" 

"NOT another word. I know you're all Slayer and can kick my ass, but I have morals, buster! And I'm not going to ruin a perfectly good relationship just because YOU'RE bored, okay?!" Faith once again opened her mouth to protest, but Fred merely slammed a cellphone in her open palm and pushed her away. "Call Angel. He needs you. Get to work." 

Faith wasn't one to take orders, Douglas could see that. Her face seemed to change color, and with a glare directed at him, she fought to keep her mouth shut, before she finally sidestepped the other girl and opened the cellphone, taking steps away from the car. 

Well- this was kinda confusing. 

The blank stare must have been obvious, because the girl called Fred, flustered and angry, just took a break, let it out, and smiled tightly at him. "I'm sorry," she said finally. The twinge of Southern accent was charming, actually. It fit her character, as she pushed up her glasses and widened her grin. "Some people, they just... I mean... Faith..." Visibly nervous, she blushed, fidgeting slightly. "Cordelia's kinda like... some people, not me, but some... of my co-workers... I think they may be tryin' ta... ya know... sabatoge your relationship with Cordelia..." She stuck her hands in her pockets, giving him time to adjust to that little revelation. "Just didn't wancha to get inta trouble or anything." 

Douglas once again glanced to the Pressroom door. Wow. 

He didn't really know what to think about all of this. Cordelia's ties... she had given the impression that they were like little gnats that needed to be swatted. Not hard to get away at all. Yet they had been here for running on six hours when they were originally only supposed to be here for two, and all these friends of hers- 

He drew in a shaky breath, remembering the brunette called Faith with the dark, angry eyes. 

"Thanks for your consideration," he finally said, grateful. At least Fred was nice. And Angel. Cordelia's friends weren't all bad, just... passionate in what they did. He supposed they needed to be, for their line of work. 

"Your welcome." Fred fell silent, once again pushing up her glasses as she turned back to the Pressroom. "You waitin' for Cordelia?" 

"Yes," he answered, slouching back against the seat. "She'll be right out." 

"I'm sure she will," Fred said immediately. Sirens immediately came out in the distance, and she shivered slightly, almost in sync with him. "I'll never get used to that," she said after a moment. He shared a glance, and she explained, "Five years as a slave in a hell dimension kinda tends to scar ya, but the utter hopelessless of these streets... they can kinda get ya down when you're alone out here." 

She had brown eyes, beautifully deep when she slipped off her glasses, stared at him searching. 

"Want some company?" she asked frankly. 

The smile on his features was answer enough, and Fred's own mouth pulled into a grin, as she opened the door and slid inside. 

-- 

In the darkness of the hell dimension, there was no silence. Waves and tremors rocked the dirt and the rocks, and Cordelia struggled to hold her ground, dreadfully out of place in the hellness of this... well... hell. 

In her tan leather jacket, olive green skirt, and nice leather pumps, she felt it, moving over the rocks, hand pressed against the rocky alcoves as she moved along the cliffs. Shadows among the fire revealed silhouettes of the other Champions, shouting orders at each other as they searched the cells, the alcoves, the fiery swamps. 

Bethany couldn't have gone far, that was true enough. The Pressroom, at this moment, was the only way in or out and the guards guarding the entrance into earth would most likely prevent anyone else from coming in or out. They would spot her immediately. 

In here, this was not Cordelia's realm. She was used to the heavens, the floating and the lights. She was used to Earth, with it's buildings and sewers. In those places, she knew her ground, she knew how to stay out of trouble, sometimes without even having to call on her Champion, or even her Light Bright powers to save her. It was all about the mental game, the home field advantage, and this wasn't it. 

Not to mention the fact that it was just... icky in this place. 

Cordelia sighed, closing her eyes and leaning against the rock. The dull throbbing in her temple was getting louder now, more insistent. Biting her bottom lip, she rubbed at her temples, massaging as she took a breath. 

Damned visions. 

The visions. 

Cordelia's eyes shot open, suddenly breathing that much faster, heart pounding that much harder in her ribcage. It had been months since her first suppression, and she had worked so hard at maintaining control that it was almost unconscious now. The headache was really the only indication that the Powers That Be were still trying to jack her in, and now... NOW... 

Licking her lips, Cordelia once again closed her eyes. She couldn't do it. She couldn't. She had sworn not to do it, and if she did then... 

She was afraid of the rush. Of being overwhelmed. Of FEELING that again. 

Cordelia's fingers gripped against the side, the cold, clammy feel of the stone seeping into her skin. 

The sirens and growls slammed into her head, and Bethany was out there, and she was powerless to help. 

CRAP. 

"Fine," she whispered to her migraine. "FINE. But it's a one-shot deal, buck-O. And you BETTER get her off for this." 

It was an uneasily, unsure breath she took as she moved back into the shadows. 

Perched at the edge of the precipice, Cordelia had no choice than to damn herself the way she had damned herself a hundred times. 

In an exact replication of the ten thousand times she had done this before, Cordelia closed her eyes, never hesitated. 

The barrier that shut out everything that she hated and loved disappeared, and in that instant, Cordelia let the entire world back in. 

It took her twenty minutes to stop sobbing.   


-- 

"WHERE IS SHE?!" 

The loud intrusion had barely disturbed the Hyperion Hotel. Connor merely looked up from his place on the couch, muttered something along the lines of 'filthy demon', and went back to cleaning his sword. 

Wesley Wyndham-Price gave the approaching demon a glance, folding over the papers in his hands and straightening away from the desk. 

"Skip. How are you?" 

But, of course, the damned demon had eyes for no one but Angel. And Angel wasn't in the mood. 

"Skip. Go away. I don't have time for this." 

"You'll MAKE time, Vampire." The growl was a borderline sneer, breathing smelling of sulphur as Skip charged forward, suddenly very much in Angel's face. "You had something to do with this. I know you did." 

Angel crossed his eyes, irritation giving way to resignation as he stepped back from Skip and slipped into the first available chair. "I had something to do with what," he stated frankly. 

"Bethany. I know you have her. Give her back." 

"Give her back." 

"Angel-" 

The growl was more than enough. "Look, Skip, I don't know WHAT you're talking about. Honestly? I could care less about Bethany or where she is. I have other problems." 

The dismissing walk away was halted when Skip barked a cold sentence. "Since when have you not cared about the helpless." 

Angel closed his eyes, a soft growl rumbling through his chest as he turned, demon meeting demon. "Since I became one of them." With a flash of his eyes, and a hiss in his voice, Angel nearly spit, "My wife is going to marry another man in less than a day, Skip. And currently, I seem to be a little helpless to stop it." 

Skip didn't bite. The demon was always smart, sometimes too smart. He had planted tons of doubts in Cordelia's mind. He was the asshole that had made her leave in the first place. He had played Cordelia like a drum, and Angel never forgot. 

"She's working for you, isn't she?" 

"For a very large sum of money, yes," Wesley inserted, inspecting his nails. 

Angel ignored him. 

"Skip. I don't know where she is, okay? As much as I'd love to be able to trade blows over this, I have a business to run and a wife to get back, so you know your way out." 

"Listen, you Vampire FREAK-" 

A large ringing cut off his words, leaving the insult with a little bit of edge, but nothing else. Angel immediately turned, dismissing the demon guide and striding toward the counter, grabbing the receiver with one powerful surge. 

"Hello?" 

"Angel, it's me." 

Cordelia. Oh, thank... Cordelia. "Hi." 

"This is big, Angel." There was something about Cordelia's tone. A faint whisper that was missing the larger bite she normally had in her enunciation. She sounded... tired. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Huh?" She seemed startled by the observation. A quick intake of breath and a shake in her syllables, and suddenly she was back. "I'm okay. Just... tired. I kinda... had a vision." 

The world stopped, tilted, and Angel clutched the phone to his ear for some sense of stability. The power of that sentence was over-whelming, to hear her say that... 

"Oh." 

"Angel, I know where she is." 

Skip was still standing, arms crossed, on his face a large scowl. He clearly wasn't going anywhere. 

"Okay." 

"Look, it's pretty crazy, but Lilah and Skip? IDIOTS. Apparently, from what I got through the damned pipeline... Skip and Lilah were going to reenact the crime. Don't ask me WHY, they just were. Something about- trying to see if they could find the best way to try her case for malicious aforethought- it doesn't matter, BUT..." Skip began to tap his foot. Loudly. 

"Hold on-" 

"Angel?!" 

Placing his hand on the receiver, Angel glared across the room to the invader. "Do you mind?" 

"Not at all. Take your time." Moving his big, lumbering form through the hallway, Skip eased himself down next to Connor. 

"Taken," Connor replied, without looking up. 

"By whom?" 

"Not you." 

Angel smirked. "That's my boy." Turning back, he moved further into the office. "Cor?" 

"Gee- THANKS, Angel. Nice to know you can put me on HOLD when it's YOUR freakin' damsel in trouble here!" 

"Sorry! Sorry. Go ahead."   
He heard a large sigh of over-dramatic exasperation before Cordelia began again. "They wanted to see her powers- so they lifted the suppression." 

Angel blinked. "Wait. You're saying they voluntarily gave Bethany access back into her powers?" 

"Right. Idiots." 

Angel couldn't help but grin. Turning the corner, he gave Skip a friendly wave. The standing demon glared back. 

Angel ducked into the office. 

"Okay." 

"Great, now I can kill you." 

"What?" 

"My jacket, Angel! It's ruined thanks to that stupid mucky hell dimension. Do you know what that means?" 

The tilt in tone suggested Angel better know what that meant. Of course, he didn't, so Angel did what he did best when confronted with something his wife thought he should know and he really didn't. He scrambled. 

"That... you lost it?" 

"NO. Dumbass! That you owe me eight hundred dollars! And I want them! NOW!" 

"NOW?!" Angel clutched the phone even tighter. "Cordelia, if you kinda forgot, we're in a bit of an EMERGENCY, here!" 

"Pfftt. That's 700 hundred plus 100 for that pain in the ass vision. I'm serious, Angel. I want it now. Or I'm not telling you where she is." 

"All right, all right. Hold on." Once again peeking around the corner, Angel waved slightly. "Uh... Wes? Mind stepping into my office?" 

"Yes, I do, Angel," he replied mechanically without looking up. "Thank you for asking." 

"WESLEY!" 

"You neglected to say please." 

"WESLEY!" 

He was really going to kill the bastard one of these days. Wesley was infuriatingly slow as he put aside his newspaper, standing and straightening his jacket. 

Skip, Angel, and Connor watched as Wesley continued to slowly walk the Hyperion Lobby as if he was on a runway. 

When Wesley finally rounded the corner, Angel grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. 

"As much fun as THAT was," he growled, "Next time, GET your ass in here when I ask." 

Wesley looked annoyed. "Angel, perhaps we should go over the rules again. One, you are NOT my boss. Two, the only reason we have not killed each other yet is because Faith and Cordelia-" 

"CORDELIA is on the phone right NOW," Angel hissed, flailing his arms with the receiver obscenely. 

"Ah." 

"You have 800 hundred dollars on you?" 

"Hardly, Angel," Wesley answered lazily, leaning against the door. 

"Counterfeit?" 

"Of course," he answered immediately, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his wallet. 

Angel grinned. "Good. Take it over to Cordelia right away. She's in the Pressroom." Wesley gave a slight nod, and turned to go, when Angel suddenly stopped him. "Wait. She may need help. Where's Faith- Fred-Gunn- where IS everyone?" 

"Busy," Wesley answered immediately. "There is the matter of a certain fiancé, after all. Looks like Matt Damon?" 

"Oh... right." Angel grinned, taking his hand off the receiver and putting it to his ear. "Wesley's on his way right now." 

"WESLEY!? What about you?" 

"Well-" Angel peeked once again. Yeap. Still there. "I'm a little tied up at the moment." 

"How tied up?" 

"Bastard Demon Guide is in my lobby." 

"Oh. Connor kill him yet?" 

"He's about to." 

"Got it. I'll be waiting. Tell Wesley to hurry his lily white ass up." 

Grinning, Angel turned to the departing Englishman. "Wesley, Cordelia says to hurry your 'lily white as-" 

"Sod off." 

Angel blinked. "I think Faith's rubbing off on him." 

Cordelia snorted. "Sure. Rubbing all over him." 

Laughter suddenly burst through his lungs, coming out of his mouth and more than likely scaring every one in the hotel. 

It felt good. He hadn't done it in a long time. 

-- 

"I don't understand this. I wasn't propositioning anyone!" 

Kate Lockley had a headache. It was the end of a very long, eighteen hour shift, and, judging by the ever more present crowd in the precinct booking room, it didn't look like she would be headed home any time soon. 

Douglas looked considerably flustered as he sat in the wooden chair next to Detective Machiato's desk, miserable with the clanking of the handcuffs around his wrists. 

"You calling my girl a liar?!" Charles Gunn was an intimidating man when he wanted to be. Douglas shrunk back into his chair. 

"I... I..." 

This guy was just way out of his league. Shaking her head, Kate came forward, hand on Gunn's shoulder. "If you would refrain from badgering the accused," she said firmly. The former gangster quirked an eyebrow. She pointed to the corner near her office, where Fred and Faith both sat. "GO." 

"Ruin the fun," she heard mumbled past her. Gunn angled past the desks and pulled out a chair, settled into it like liquid. Fred immediately planted herself on his lap, letting him wrap arms around her tiny waist. 

So what, did NO ONE know how to use a freaking chair anymore? 

Almost if she was completely aware of what she was thinking, Faith twisted like a pretzel and winked. 

Kate groaned. 

"Okay," she said after a minute, turning back to the poor fiancé. "Just... sit here. I'll be back after I talk to... them." 

"But I didn't proposition anyone!" 

"Tell that to the judge!" Fred peeped from her side of the room. "I always wanted to say that," she giggled to Gunn. 

Kate rubbed at her forehead. "You three. In my office. Now." Turning to the detective, she shrugged. "Just... HOLD him, for a minute." 

"You got it." 

"Detective Lockley! I didn't do it!" 

Kate ignored his resounding cries, pushing Faith into her office and slamming the door. "I should arrest you three right now." 

"Aww, come on, Kate. Fred's being truthful here. The guy's a horndog!" 

Fred nodded earnestly. 

"Right. Okay. WHO is going to mistake FRED for a prostitute?!" Kate blurted, crossed arms and narrowed glare meant to be intimidating. 

"Look, how were WE supposed to know that a vice squad was cracking down on guys that very instant?" 

"I was only being helpful," Fred said innocently. 

Kate closed her eyes and counted to ten. "Are you guys the least concerned about what you're doing to this guy?" 

Fred nodded immediately and opened her mouth to respond, but Faith did it first, plucking a book on lock-picking from Kate's bookshelf and perusing it idly. 

"Fuck, no, Kate. Look. We've got a serious emergency, okay? And we agreed- you and Angel agreed- when it comes to the damned Powers and the mission, you'll help." 

"I didn't realize that meant framing an innocent guy twice in the same day, whose only apparent crime was having the bad taste to fall in love with Cordelia Chase!" 

She got three glares in response. Kate checked her clock. 

Six O'Clock. 

Great. 

Yanking the book from Faith's hand, she pushed the lounging Slayer's feet off her desk and sat down in her chair, pulling out the paperwork. "How long do you want me to hold him?" she asked frankly. 

"Couple hours," Gunn remarked, pushing Fred gently from his lap and getting up. "Long enough for us to find Bethany and get this deal with the Powers settled. We need Cordy for that." 

"And pissing her off will help?" 

"Nah, that's just fun," Faith quipped. 

Kate rolled her eyes. "Listen, you-" 

The door slammed open. 

"Detective Lockley!" Lilah Morgan shook her dark mane off her shoulders with a manicured hand. "I want every one of Angel Investigations arrested right now." 

It was then, that Lilah took the time to realize exactly who was standing in the room. Her eyes immediately skimmed past Gunn and Fred, through Kate, and zeroed in on Faith. 

The lawyer took a full step back. 

"Well, I wouldn't have very far to look now, would I?" Kate asked dryly. "What do you want, Ms. Morgan?" 

Lilah was too busy having a glaring contest with Faith to have much of an answer. Kate raised her eyes heavenward and let out a sigh. Here we go. 

"Well, if it isn't Lilah Fucking Morgan. Herpes break out in the form of PMS?" 

Lilah recovered enough of the inner bitchiness to produce her own snide remark. "Leather. Again. How original. Tell me, Faith, you put on a few pounds or did those pants just get caught in the rain?" 

Faith cocked an eyebrow, on her face a grin that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud. "No, sweetie, just a little tight from having to sew them after the fabulous fuck I had with my boyfriend. You know him, don't you?" 

Oh, shit. "Okay, that's enough," Kate barked, moving around the desk and nearly tripping over Gunn and Fred. "This office is getting WAY too crowded, and YOU- what the hell are you looking at?" she snapped at the officers staring in the doorway. Planting herself between Faith and Lilah, Kate kicked the door closed. "Damned Nosy Idiots." 

"Listen, you whore-" 

"You're calling ME a whore? YOU, the idiot who sold her soul to evil? Wow, that's a bitch calling a Slayer black." 

"Who's calling who black?" Gunn asked indignantly. 

"Charles, I really don't think they meant you-" 

"I did NOT sell my soul. It's a contract binding my soul should the event arise where it's needed- WHY am I sharing this with you?" 

"SHUT UP!" Kate came close to bellowing, hands out as she pushed apart the two brunettes. "Just. SHUT UP. Both of you. Or I'll shoot you. BOTH OF YOU." Kate took the moment of silence to take a deep breath, and finally, turned to Lilah. "Arrest them on what grounds?" 

Lilah held up a briefcase, proud smirk evident on her face. "They assisted with the escape of a client of mine. Accessory charges." 

"This the Bethany case?" Kate asked. 

"That's right." 

"Right. I can't do that." Kate was frank, arms crossed, ignoring the smirk of triumph on Faith's face. "That's not my area." 

"Obstruction of justice isn't your area?" Lilah scoffed. "Come on, Kate. You're the Scully of this place, you know the rules." 

"MULDER, dammnit," Kate bit. "I'm MULDER. For the last damned time, SCULLY was the skeptic, MULDER was the believer, and did you guys even WATCH the show?" 

"Kate-" 

"Look, Morgan. I would love to put the entire Angel crew behind bars, especially that one," she thumbed a finger in Faith's direction. Faith winked. "But I can't. You know damned well anything in other dimensions or Powers related has nothing to do with me, and I'm not touching it." 

"She's an official client-" 

"Who's trial is being held in another dimension. Not touching it." Kate glanced pointedly toward the door. "You know your way out." 

"I'm not leaving until you do your job and-" Lilah trailed off when Faith took a step forward, hands suddenly clenched into fists. That seemed to change her mind soon enough. "Fine." She replied angrily. "This isn't over." 

"Yes," Kate answered. "It is. This Bethany case is NOT my problem. You guys deal with it. I'm NOT playing referee. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe Mr. Sanderson is entitled to a phone call." 

She held the door open for Lilah. The lawyer couldn't resist another glance at her rival. 

Faith, now back to lounging seductively in the wooden chair, next to Fred and Gunn, gave a broad grin. Slowly, deliberately, and meeting Lilah's gaze, she held up a middle finger. 

Oh, Christ. Over a GUY?! 

Kate slammed the door closed. 

"Angel," she mumbled, "you shoulda just let me kill myself."   


--   
**END CHAPTER**   



	11. Chapter Eleven

**HIS GIRL FRIDAY**   
**Chapter Eleven**__

_"You think the Powers beam me pretty pictures purely for my amusement? They tell me when someone's in danger and that someone is you!_   
_"Oh, gee. I'm in danger. What else is new?"_   
Cordelia and Angel, The Price 

-- 

She was never used to waiting. 

It was something she hated, and although her pre-demon days it seemed it was all she EVER did, she couldn't learn to go back to that. Not now. 

Checking her watch again, Cordelia continued to pace the Pressroom, closing her eyes for just a second to stumble with the aftermath of the vision. A quick flash, not much else, but it still caused her to flail for the chair, lean against it for a minute, just a minute. 

God. She had forgotten how much it took over. 

"Light Bright!" Opening her eyes, she found Miller looking down at her, an axe resting on his shoulder. "You still here?" 

"You know me," she whispered. "I'm like the Godfather. Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in." 

"Yeah." He patted her on the shoulder and moved around, throwing the axe into the weapons closet and choosing a spear. Cordelia watched him, hazel eyes darkening. 

"You really think you'll need that?" 

"Never can be too careful with a crazy kid like that." 

"You mean you think she can kick your ass," Cordelia responded frankly, resting her chin on her palm as she watched him head toward the dimension opening. 

"I wouldn't go THAT far," he grumbled, ducking through the opening. 

It crackled shut after him, and Cordelia used the moment of solitude to keep her hands in her face, let her trembling heart still for just a minute. 

"God," she whispered. "This sucks." Bethany was free and clear for the moment, she knew that much. But in the hell dimension she had no alternatives. It would be like tracking a rat in the maze, and with an increasingly unstable telekinetic, there was no telling how violent or bloody things could get. 

The girl needed her champions. The girl needed Angel. 

Metallic dongs chimed meekly, forcing the tired demoness to glare at her ruined jacket. For a moment she merely stared, as if by glaring alone, the phone would turn itself off, but when it continued to ring, Cordelia finally signed, leaning forward and fishing her cellphone out of the lined pocket. 

Her head plastered against the wood, Cordelia once again closed her eyes as she snapped weakly, "Hello?" 

"Cordelia?!" 

Her eyes immediately flew open. Sitting up so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash, Cordelia blinked. "Douglas?" 

Oh, GOD, Douglas! He was still waiting outside! He must have been sitting there all this time- 

"Douglas-" 

"I'm in jail again." 

Her mind fell to pieces. Cordelia's mouth dropped opened as she tried to comprehend that sentence. 

"WHAT?!" she screeched. "Again?!" 

"I... yeah." 

"WHAT FOR?!" She was shouting now, bordering on hysterics. This was crazy. This was insane, this was impossible- 

"Detective Lockley calls it..." there was a slight pause. "Propositioning." 

Lockley? KATE Lockley? "Wait a minute," she breathed. "Kate?" 

"Yes. Cordelia, I swear-" 

"PROPOSITIONING?!" Her mind suddenly caught up, dismissed Kate immediately when the other words filtered through. 

"Cordelia, I know it looks bad, but I swear, I didn't do it! I mean, first Faith comes to the car and asks for a cigarette and then that girl Fred comes along-" 

Fred. Faith. Kate. 

"Oh, God," she whispered, slumping into the chair. "Douglas?" she asked, tone suddenly resigned. 

"Yeah." 

"Is Gunn there?" 

"Who?" 

"Big guy? Bald?" 

"Oh..." 

"Calls Fred 'schmoopy bear'?" 

"Yeah. That's him." 

"Nevermind," she muttered. "I know how it happened. Hold on." DAMMIT. DAMMIT. DAMMIT. 

She was going to kill him. She was going to- 

It took her three tries to get her shaking fingers to dial Angel's number. 

"Hello?" 

"Connor," she said sweetly. "Do you mind getting your son of a bitch father for me?" 

"He's not here." 

"What do you mean 'he's not here'? He was there a minute ago! Hold on-" Clicking over, Cordelia once again said, "Hold on Douglas-" 

"Cordelia-" 

Clicking back, she continued her rant, "WHERE is he?!" 

"Not here, Cordelia. I swear." 

"I'm going to kill him, Connor, I swear. And save you the trouble." 

"I don't want to kill him anymore, Cordelia." 

"Right." Clicking off the phone, she slammed it shut. "Fine, Connor. Forget the fact I healed you from all your hate, FORGET the fact I wiped your damned ass when you were pooped- SIDE with your father- DOUGLAS?!" Scrambling, she dropped the phone twice before she managed to get back to her fiancé. "Sweetie, hi." 

"Cordelia!" 

"Look..." Glancing at the walls of the pulsing Pressroom, Cordelia closed her eyes. Dammit. "I can't get there now." 

"WHAT?!" 

"Look, it's... hard to explain but- I'll be there as soon as I can, okay? Bye!" 

"Cordelia!" 

She clicked the phone shut, and slammed her head on the table. 

"What's with the Light Bright?" 

That had to be Marj. Opening one eye, Cordelia checked. Yeap. And Miller and Al, and a few more. 

"Tired," she murmured. 

"And how," Miller confirmed, settling in beside her. Propping large, heavy feet on the table, he glanced at Al. "Almost an hour and not a peep. I don't know where that girl is hiding but she's got her nicks and cracks down pat." 

"Crazy, huh? I'da figured she'd do something else, you know? Like try to fight her way out. That would been the-" 

"Stupid thing to do," came the voice from the doorway. "Remember," Skip retorted, "Crazy, not stupid." 

"How can you be crazy, and not stupid?" Bugsy asked, settling in with an axe and a polishing cloth. 

Miller snorted. "Easy, just ask Skippy here." 

"Why the hell are you all in here, instead of in there?" the demon guide snarled, seconds before he finally saw Cordelia. He nodded. "Cordelia." 

She waved a tired arm in greeting. "Hi, Skip." 

"She'll show up eventually," Al remarked. He was currently standing in front of a mirror, flossing his incisors. 

"Not like she can go anywhere," Marksy added, more interested in seeing if he could relocate the missing rat than finding the girl. Eyebrow cocking in silent amusement, Cordelia didn't even have the energy to lift her head as she watched the comical sight of the large demon scuttling on all fours across the dirty floor. 

"Know what I'm betting." Marj offered his observation as he came up behind Skip, draping an arm around Skip's scaly form, eyes drifting up in open contemplation. "That lawyer guy had something to do with it. Came in here all self-righteous and crap, going on and on about his evil hand..." Yelping suddenly, Marj jumped back, glaring at the chattering mouth on Skip's shoulder. "Bastard." 

"Where is that little runt, anyway?" 

Miller gave a dry snort. "It's hard to tell, your Demon Guidey-ness. There's so MANY cockroaches around here..." 

Cordelia couldn't help the small smirk that lifted onto her features at the look of absolute frustration on Skip's face. It froze when he glared at her. 

"You enjoying this?" 

She smiled sheepishly. "Just a lil' bit," she answered, closing her forefinger and thumb together. 

"Taking their side?" 

"Champions gotta stick together, Skippy," Miller grumbled, slapping a hand on Cordelia's back, forcing her to lurch forward and nearly choke. "Oh. Sorry." 

"Don't EVER do that again," she growled, rubbing at her throat. 

Marksy, still on his hands and knees, apparently had given up looking for the mouse, and instead had passed the time now studying the Demon Guide. "Shouldn't YOU be looking for her?" he asked shrewdly. "I mean, not to be obvious or anything, but don't you think this is just a GREAT time for this to happen. You've been screwing up with the Powers, Skip." 

"Leaving us to do your little clean-up work," Miller whistle, words now accompanied by a sing-song tone. "Losing your clout, man." 

The sour expression on Skip's only fueled the other demons' ribbing. "You're going down, down, down..." 

There was chuckles all around, and the sallow face on Skip grew harder. "You forgetting who's the boss of who here?" 

"Not for loooong!" 

Finally taking pity on her old friend, Cordelia shook her head, fighting off a smile. "Give him a break, guys. He's got a lot of stress on his mind. He did go visit my ex-husband, after all." 

"You knew about that?" 

"I'm have magical powers," she quipped. "I know everything. I'll read your hand for a dollar." 

"I'll give you ten if you read something else, Light Bright!" 

Laughter erupted as Cordelia swiveled, attempting to look offended and failing miserably. "Behave," she glared. 

"That's it," Skip growled. "Everyone up. OUT. LOOK. NOW." The last word came accompanied with a growl and a rumble. No one moved. Skip glared. No one moved. Skip took a step forward. No one moved. 

"Oh, come on, guys," Cordelia finally said. "Give him a break." 

Miller grudgingly got to his feet. "You're lucky we're being charitable today, Skip." 

"You'll do it because it's your JOB." 

Marj responded by flicking Skip the middle finger. 

Cordelia blinked, cocking her head in turn with Skip as they disappeared through the portal. "Must have spent some time with Faith." Turning back, she found him staring. "What?" she asked, suddenly self-concious. 

"Light Bright?" he questioned. 

"Eh. Could have been worse. I could have been Glow Worm." 

"Skip!" The interruption in the affectionate moment was caused by a lawyer striding through the open Press Room, jogging forward, a briefcase in her hands. "Sorry I'm late, got caught up in..." Lilah Morgan faltered to a stop, suddenly connecting gazes with a very narrowed pair of hazel eyes. 

"What's she doing here?" Cordelia asked flatly. 

"What?" Lilah asked, shoulders suddenly deflating. "Are the good guys all having a convention somewhere? Who the hell am I going to run into next?" 

"I'm hoping Faith," Cordelia snapped darkly. "I know you've got an ass she'd love to kick." 

"Now, ladies," Skip began. 

"Well, if it isn't the Bitch of Abandon," Lilah said quickly, eyebrow quirking, a smile coming onto her face. "Thought you were out of this, Cordelia." 

"I was. Then I heard about the luscious opportunity to kick screw YOU over in this whole thing and I just couldn't pass it up," she responded. "How's your love life, by the way? Been dumped by any more Watchers, lately?" 

Oooh. Ouch. Cordelia's icy tone was the best of the bitch inside of her, and it worked, just the right amount of sarcastic, sympathetic venom to force the mask on Lilah's face to crack. Just a little. 

Skip saw it. In two seconds he was between both women. 

"Enough. This isn't about either of you, all right? This is about a woman, and a trial, and justice." 

The arrival of Cordelia's old arch-nemesis and rival had done more than cause her blood to boil, and suddenly tired of the whole charade, Cordelia's mouth suddenly kept going, this time zero-ing on her old "friend", Skip. 

"Oh, really?" she declared icily. "You sure it isn't just about making sure that you get yours with Angel?" 

"Cordelia," Lilah began. 

"ENOUGH," Skip barked. Pushing back at the lawyer, he led her to another dimension, eyes cold and angry as they connected with the dark orbs of Cordelia. The seer stood her ground. The old ease had given way to the years of tension, as she stood, seeing that angry expression in countless dimensions, pushing her, always pushing her, forcing her to make choices she never wanted to make and breaking her spirit, bit by bit. 

It was safe to say that in that click of a second, she didn't like Skip very much. 

"Cordelia. This isn't your fight. Get out of this, NOW." 

The implicit threat wasn't unnoticed. Cocking her head, she indicated, she understood, but she still leaned against the hard wood of the table, still dug her heels into the dirt, and still stood her ground. 

Screw this shit. 

He wasn't getting away with this. Lilah Fucking Morgan wasn't getting away with this. 

No one was screwing Angel. 

No one was killing Bethany. 

And NO ONE was going to screw her. 

-- 

"NOT a problem? She's NOT a problem?" Pushing a brown strand of hair away from her face, Lilah unbuttoned her blazer, fanning at the heat as she glared at the damned demon guide. Damned third world dimensions and their hundred degree temperatures. "Let me tell you something, Skip? That girl in there? THAT's a problem." 

"Lilah-" 

"We had this in the bag. The Powers weren't even considering a reprieve or a pardon and now with HER on the clock they might." 

"She won't be a problem." 

"HOW do you know that?!" 

"HEY!" Skip nearly growled, the snap biting off his words as he glared into the human's eyes. "Because. She failed, all right? The Powers don't want her back because she FAILED." 

"She failed WHAT?" 

"Her tests. Two of them. When she chose to ... there were tests, and she... nevermind." 

Lilah looked confused, the anger in her dark orbs faded to a now confused shape. "What do you mean?" 

Skip was quiet, mouth pulled into a discernable frown before he turned away, ignoring the subject in favor of one more pleasing to him. "This case is going nowhere fast, Lilah. Frankly, I'm wondering why I don't just pull Wolfram and Hart off the case and just keep the girl myself. Trial or no trial." 

Her mouth twitched in the stare contest that ensued, intimidation was something they were both used to, and it wasn't a game easily won. 

"Don't be stupid," she said finally. "You know you need us just as much as we need you. You have to have a feasible reason for damning the girl, and I highly doubt 'screwing Angel Investigations' will register highly on the Powers 'truth and honor' scale. The lesser of two evils, isn't that what you told me, Skip?" She teased now, a smirk on her red lips that meant to dig into his little armor, words and barbs she was so good at now. 

She was good at evil. Apparently, that was all she knew. 

Even Slayers knew more about love than she did. 

"Don't play exposition girl with me, Lilah," Skip said after a moment, ignoring her baited words. "I know the odds, just as much as you do. You need this." 

Lilah was quiet, suddenly focused on his eyes. "Not feeling any regrets, are you?" Words carefully chosen, masked by a little tilt in her tone that came off as playful, deadly as a snake inside. "Feeling the mooshy feelings at the sight of your own little prodigal out there?" 

Skip frowned. "She's Angel's problem now." 

"I dare to disagree." 

Lilah blinked, suddenly focused on the foreign voice behind them. 

Before them, sparkles still floated in the air as a glittered blue and gold covered young man stood in the entrance of the hallway. 

Lilah could have sworn she was hearing harps. 

"Who's this?" she asked. Skip's eyes narrowed. 

Glitter guy merely gave the room a once over, deemed it too dirty for him, and jutted his chin up. "And what business have you, consulting with a lower being?" he demanded of Skip. 

"I'm not consulting, I'm consorting," Skip drawled, arms crossed. "There's a difference." 

"Whatever your definition may be," Glitter Guy announced, "It is of no consequence. You have not the permission to consort with a minion of the devil." 

"Several, actually," Lilah corrected, eyebrow arching as she took in the ensemble. "So... is that paint or you were actually born like that?" 

The guy didn't seem to take fondly to the joke. "You dare to question an Oracle of the Powers that Be?" 

"Former Oracle," Skip corrected, suddenly lazy as he leaned against the wall, studying his fingernails. "You died, remembered." 

"Oh... an ORACLE," Lilah grinned. "Pleasure to meet you." She lifted a hand in greeting, but the Oracle only stared at it, as if he were seeing something incredibly disgusting and beneath him. 

"I did not come to meet or socialize with any of your kind. Your kind is not permitted in the sanctuary of the Trial," he nearly spit his words, and turned his angry glare onto Skip. "The Powers will hear of your insolence in bringing her here." 

"Sure. Blame it on the scaly guy," Skip murmered. "Tattle tale." 

"I am merely a presenter of the truth, nothing more." 

"Boy," Lilah mused, settling in beside Skip. "No wonder you fell in with the baddies. This guy is LOADS of fun." 

Skip smiled at that. "There a reason you showed up in all your glittery glory, or you just here to rub that beautiful paint job in my face?" 

"I have no need for some frivolities," The Oracle straightened, hands behind his back as he stood as tall as his five foot four frame would allow. "I have brought a summons from above." Throwing his head back, he ordered, "The Powers have had enough of this whole affair. They have declared Bethany free and clear of all charges. She will remain under the care of Angel Investigations pending the character of witness by former Champion Cordelia Chase. You have been ordered to stand aside." 

The smiles fell off their faces. 

"Not a problem, huh?" Lilah breathed, pushing herself off the desk. "Are you kidding me with this?" 

"Stand aside? A murderer?" 

"That has not yet been decided. I have my orders and you shall stand beside them." 

"You may, but I'm not," Lilah hissed, eyes suddenly flashing as she stepped toward the Oracle. "I don't answer to the Powers, I answer to the Senior Partners, and I'm not losing this to them. I'm not losing this too." 

"I am merely a Messenger," the Oracle said. "I have no other purpose." 

"Lilah," Skip said, suddenly on his feet. "Do me a favor. Lock the door." 

The lawyer paused, suddenly turning, confusion etched on her features. "What?" 

"Do it." 

The Oracle blinked, and suddenly his eyes went wide when Skips fist cracked across his jaw, sending him in a flurry of blue and gold glitter to the floor. 

"Oh my GOD-" Lilah stopped herself before she could condemn herself further. "I mean... WHAT-" 

Skip grinned, leaning down to turn over the Oracle. "He's gonna have blue in a place that he shouldn't." 

Lilah let out a muted chuckle, awe still apparent on her elfin features. "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in the middle of a Hepburn/Tracy classic?" 

"I prefer Judy. The Harvey Girls?" 

"With the bar fight?" Lilah asked, a grin suddenly sliding on her features. 

"Angela Lansbury as a slut and Cyd Charisse looking virginal? Can't get much better." 

"A demon with taste," Lilah laughed. "Who'da thought." 

There was a gaze shared, small, admiring, before Skip chuckled, easily lifting the Oracle. "Come on, lets find some place to stash him and we'll get to work." 

"A man with a dark side and a sense of humor." Picking up a briefcase, Lilah followed. "Suddenly this sounds like a lot of fun." 

-- 

She had nearly off her fingernails when she realized with an insane bout of horror what it was she had almost done. 

"Oh my GOD," she whispered, staring down in horror at the uneven fingertips. "I'm going to KILL him." 

"Kill who?" 

Cordelia blinked, suddenly bringing Wesley Wyndham-Price into focus. The Englishman still wore the scruffy haircut, glasses free and wearing a smirk. 

"YOU." 

He smiled wider. "Hello, Cordelia. You're looking well." 

It was almost too easy to glare at her former best friend, hands on her hips as he descended the steps, casual and without a care in the world. 

"I could really kill you, Wesley." 

"No, why on earth would you want to do that, Cordelia?" Wesley remarked, steps faltering. "I hardly suspected a peck on the cheek, but at least for old times sake I deserve a hug." 

"You deserve a kick in the ass!" Cordelia snarled, moving forward to poke a finger into his chest. "What the hell did you do to him!?" 

"Who?" 

"Douglas!" 

"Cordelia, I didn't do any-" 

"Don't even, Wesley." Cordelia's palm now pushed, taking Wesley back a step or two. It did nothing but make him more amused. "You were always a weenie but I never thought for a second you were innocent." 

"Cordelia, that's hardly complimentary-" 

"What the hell did you DO to him?! You and Slut-O-Rama from the Bronx!" 

Wesley blinked, smile faltering as the sentence caught up with him. "Are you talking about Faith?" 

"None other," Cordelia hissed, arms crossed as she glared at her friend. 

"She's not from the Bronx," Wesley responded. "She's from Boston. And she's hardly a slut, either, Cordelia." 

"Okay, your faith in your girlfriend is touching Wesley, really. Especially considering during your own little beige period you shacked up with the Evil Bitch Queen from hell, but I'm just warning you, okay?" Turning, her eyes narrowed into slits, voice lowering an octave in a true threat, "You two touch my fiancé again, I'll will go glowy on BOTH your asses." 

Wesley grinned. "Love to have you back, Cordelia. I missed the spit and fire." 

The smile she put on for him was bordering on saccharine. "I missed you too, Wesley. Really. Now give me the money so I can kick your ass to the curb." 

"Bloody hell, Cordelia. Before you were at least sentimental," Wesley groused, sliding his hand into his pocket and emerging with a leather wallet. "There you are," he said, pulling out a wad of bills. "Seven hundred-" 

"Eight hundred." 

Catching her eye, he froze. Her eyebrow arched, daring him to contradict. "Of course, Cordelia," he said. "Money is tight when one is no longer working for an evil law firm, you musn't blame one for trying." 

She snatched the bills from his hand. "Right. Thanks." 

"I'll need a receipt." 

"How about I give you a kick in the ass?" 

"As lovely as that sounds, I'd prefer the receipt." 

"Actually..." Cordelia paused, gaze as hard as steel as she once again held out her hand. "I'll take the wallet, too." 

"My wallet?" 

"HIS wallet. The one you stole from him?" The arched eyebrow rose even higher, nearly disappearing into her hairline when Wesley gave her an incredulous look. "Let's go!" 

There was a moment of silence, and Wesley suddenly chuckled, shaking his head. "Good heavens, Cordelia. I have missed you. All right, here you are." He pulled the wallet out of his back pocket. "Sure you want to marry this one, Cordelia? Not a platinum card in sight!" 

"Oh my GOD, shut up." 

"Cordelia." Wesley's tone had changed from teasing to firm. "Bethany. Where is she?" 

Cordelia froze, back to her friend as her eyes closed, suddenly hitching her breath in. "I'm not sure, yet." 

"Cordelia..." 

"She's close, Wes. They haven't gotten to her yet." Managing a grim smile for his benefit, she turned, offering a half shrug as she sank into the chair. "But she's got a chance." 

"That's hardly enough to go on." 

"The pipeline's open," she answered stiffly. "I'm expecting details any second now." 

"Well then, that works perfectly. I'm on my way then, to relay that information to Angel." Nodding his head, Wesley stepped back toward the door. 

"Wesley- I'd rather you to go to the Police Station and get my fiancé out. Now." 

"Cordelia, in this crisis? I gather he's safer where he is. Love to see you." He smiled, nodded, and strode to the door. 

"WESLEY!?" Cordelia pushed herself to her feet, starting after him. "Wesley, you pansy-assed lily white ... PANSY!" She was left standing in the middle of the empty Pressroom, eyes closing in disbelief when Wesley disappeared. "Shit." 

She was going to kill them. All of them. RIGHT NOW. 

Opening her cellphone, Cordelia sighed, slumping into a chair with a tired shift. 

"Los Angeles. The Los Angeles Police-" 

The world tipped over, and twisted. 

Suddenly slammed against the wall, Cordelia tasted blood as her head knocked against the stones. A burst of colors and vivid, bright pain slammed into her temples, as she slumped to the floor. 

CRAP. 

"What the-" 

"Don't move." 

Cordelia froze, eyes blinking back tears of pain as she managed to regain some focus to discover the figure pinning her to the wall with an unseen force of awesome power. 

Crap. 

"Bethany." 

-- 

**END CHAPTER**   



	12. Chapter Twelve

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

_"You shouldn't worry. Angel does this kind of thing all the time."_   
_"Makes tea?"_   
_"Helps people. You know, he helps people with problems."_   
_"So what's wrong with you?"_   
- Bethany and Cordelia, Untouched 

--- -- -- 

Owww. 

"Don't move, Cordelia. I can fucking choke you from here." 

Cordelia blinked, the headache whispering stabs of pain into her head that became pulsing points of loud, more obnoxious, tremors. 

"Oww." 

"Don't move, Cordelia." 

Oh, right. Bethany. That's why she was a freaking pancake. She opened her eyes, had to blink a few times to get her focus, and found her. 

Like a rabid dog, Bethany stood before her, no more than five feet away, eyes wide with terror, body openly shaking with fear. Yeah. She had been in a hell dimension all right. 

"Bethany..." Her words were whispered, gentle and soothing, a desperate attempt to keep the crazed girl from reaching that point where she would completely lose it. 

Cordelia had been on the receiving end of it before, and it hurt. She still had the scars to prove it. 

"Just... stay..." Bethany's syllables were chattered, stuttering as she held up an finger and once again pushed Cordelia against the cold hardness of the rocks. 

"Bethany," she began again, struggling against the unseen force. She couldn't move. Crap. Taking a breath, she once again spoke, slower. "Bethany, I'm on your side, remember? You're not a killer-" 

"Maybe I fucking am, all right?" Eyes wide with righteous anger, Bethany's pale, scared face was smeared with ashes and blood. She was openly trembling, and Cordelia saw it all. 

There was a twist in her insides, a wrench that made her ache, and it almost impossible to smile, even as she tried, gentle as it seemed. 

"Bethany," she tried again. "You don't to hurt me, okay? I'm your friend- " 

"Look- maybe you are, maybe you're not, I don't care, all right?" Cordelia's hands clenched into fists, eyes riveted to Bethany's face, found the orbs wide and terrified. It was a desperate moment, but all she needed was one. Just one moment. "You can't trust anyone in this damned dimension, and I don't care if I have to kill you to get out of it-" 

"Bethany!" This time, her voice was sharp, no longer soothing, no longer sympathetic. "I've got a damned good headache thanks to you, and my mouth tastes like blood. Not only that, I've got a bruise I can feel turning into a freaking bump the size of Mount Whitney on my cheek, and because of you my fiancé has been put into jail, twice. If you kill me, I will be VERY pissed off." 

And there it was, that moment. The words glazed Bethany's eyes over, and in the second between the time she processed the words and she lost just enough comprehension to get angry, Cordelia felt the pressure gone. 

It was all she needed. Pushing forward, she pushed her hands together, and before Bethany had time to blink, she slammed her hands into the younger girl's chest. Suddenly vibrant with light, Bethany suddenly jolted backwards, landing with a shake and a groan across the side of the room. 

The glow faded as quickly as it came, but the resonance and awe stayed on Bethany's face as she openly convulsed, closed her eyes and let tears fall, sobbing softly. 

Cordelia felt stranded. Her hands, dimming lightbulbs now brought back to their regular hue, fell to her sides, and she studied the girl with a breaking heart. 

Dammit. 

"I know it hurts," she whispered. "Okay? I know it does. Just give it time." 

Bethany's eyes shot open, tears streaming down her face in angry torrents as she crumpled against the stone, curling into a ball. 

Suddenly harmless. Suddenly lost. Never evil. 

And very heartbroken. 

Cordelia's heels dug into the dirt, around her, swords clanked and chairs moved with unseen power, but she felt no fear. There was no danger as she knelt down, and when Bethany's pale hand flailed out, Cordelia took it, clasped it against her, the warmth a contrast from the cold clamminess of Bethany. 

"It's okay," she whispered, eyes suddenly moist as Bethany stared at her silent, pleadingly. God, she seemed to mouth, and Cordelia felt so very tired. Drained from the shock of Bethany's panic, the afterflow of emotions intensified with Bethany's contact. Fear, shock, calloused bitterness all seeped within her now, and hazel and blue orbs connected for just that one speck of time. 

Suddenly, Bethany knew she was no longer alone. 

"Is it better now?" Cordelia asked after a moment. 

Still distrustful, still scared, Bethany gave a hesitant nod, extracting her fingers from Cordelia's grip and wiping at the streaks on her cheek, breathing heavily. 

"Let's get you up," Cordelia said, sliding an arm around the younger girl and pulling up. Bethany damned near collapsed against her. "Damn. You're heavy." 

For some reason, the insult made the younger girl smile, loll her head back to study Cordelia's face, and suddenly discover the bruise forming on Cordelia's cheek, the blood trickling from her mouth. 

Her smile froze. 

"Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." 

"Hey, you impaled me with a nail before. I consider this progress. Though it does hurt like hell," Cordelia groused, raising a palm to rest against her cheek. And the wedding. CRAP. The wedding! 

"Oh, GEEZ." 

"What?" 

"Nothing," Cordelia mumbled, pushing Bethany into one of the lower chairs, and kneeling down in front of her. "You okay?" 

"I just want to go home," Bethany mumbled, as Cordelia tilted her chin and inspected her face. 

"Yeah, you and me both." Cordelia gave a sigh, and suddenly gave the room about a piercing stare. "God... they'll be back any minute." 

"Cordelia?" 

"Just a sec." Standing at the large, major opening, Cordelia gave the dimensional cavern a scrutinizing look. "Let me see if I remember how to do this." 

"Do what?" 

"Shut up, Bethany." Narrowing her eyes, Cordelia tried to concentrate, hands splayed out in front of her as she regarded the opening. "Here goes nothing." 

She often wondered how much power she had retained in her fall from her status, how much she actually kept and how much she actually refused to use until now. It had was been surprising at first, how easily the memories came back, to discover that they not been wiped from her brain as they had all originally thought when she was returned, but buried way down deep. 

It wasn't that she couldn't find them, it was that she never knew how to look. 

A shift in her memories, like the combination of the dials on a lock, and suddenly, there it was. 

The shift suddenly held a dark shield over it, masking it from sight. 

"Cordelia? Can't we just get out of here?" 

"No, because there are guards outside, and if you don't shut up, they'll come in here and you'll be dragged back to the hell dimension and you'll be damned eternally." 

"I don't care." 

"Shut up." 

"I just want this over." 

"Yeah, you and me both, shut up." Cordelia turned quickly to the other opening, once again standing before them and turning the locks. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Locking us in." 

"Why?" 

"I have NO idea." Taking a breath to stop her fluttering heart, Cordelia turned, wiping at her mouth and surveying the Pressroom. "But at least it buys us some time until I can get to my- to Angel." Moving forward, she finally found what she was looking for. Scattered on the floor, covered with dust, was her abused cellphone. 

"I better not get roaming charges," she mumbled, flopping to the seat opposite Bethany, reaching into her pocket for Douglas' discarded hankerchief and holding it to the telekinetic's chin. Dialing Angel's number, she angled it against her shoulder, letting it ring. 

"Hello?" 

Oh thank God. Suddenly breathless, Cordelia straightened, felt her heart jump start at the sound of his voice. "Angel?! Oh, thank God-" The click muffled his response, and Cordelia groaned, slumping back into the seat. "Hold on." 

"Cor-" 

"Hello?" she responded, clicking over. 

"CORDELIA!" 

"Douglas?" She blinked, and suddenly groaned. Oh, God, Douglas. Bethany watched, confused. 

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!" 

"Oh, God... Douglas..." she sucked in her breath. "I know I said I'd be there as soon as I could but something came up-" 

"Cordelia, a guy named JACK HAMMER just declared to the entire cell that I'm officially going to be his BITCH in the next twenty minutes!" 

She blinked. "I... uh... Look, Douglas. I want to go, over there- WELL, WHY ARE YOU LETTING HIM?!" 

"He's got BICEPS THIS BIG-" 

Bethany snapped her fingers, and suddenly Cordelia was pulled back to the present. "Oh, right, Douglas- remember that thing I was working on-" 

"Cordelia! WHY does it-" 

"SHE'S HERE, Douglas! And I gotta save her life, and I gotta go and don't be a bitch, okay?! Bye!" 

"Cor-" 

She cut him off with a finger on the send button. "Hi, Angel?" 

"Cordelia?! Are you okay?" 

"Angel! She's here, but we're stuck in the Pressroom and I don't know how long I can keep her in here. I need you guys." 

He didn't hesitate, and it made her smile with relief. "Don't move. I'll round up the gang and we'll be right there." 

"Okay." 

"Cordelia?" 

"Yeah." There was a moment of silence, and then. "Be careful." 

"You know me. I don't listen, I rush headlong into danger without listening to anyone and get myself into lots of trouble- oh wait. That's you." 

"Very funny." 

"Be here. Soon." 

"Sure." 

He clicked off. 

He left silence, a hint of a smile in Cordelia's face, and in the headlong rush of fear, there was the old anticipation, the old excitement... 

She was breathing heavily now, almost sweating as her eyes locked with Bethany's. 

"What now?" 

"We find a way to get you outta here," she answered, launching to her feet and moving to the weapon's closet. "Without getting you killed, or - you know - more importantly- ME." 

Bethany laughed, but the sound was cut short in her throat when Cordelia moved to the doorway leading to the hallway that entered to the earth dimension and almost ran straight into Lindsey MacDonald. 

Cordelia yelped, pushing at the lawyer, keeping him from Bethany's sight. 

"Lindsey! Hey. How ya doin'? 

"I just heard. Is she okay?" Lindsey was breathless. His tie was unknotted, hanging in loose strands around his neck, and he was sweaty. 

Ick. 

"We don't know." 

"Well, let me talk to the demon idiots in there," he growled, trying to push past her. "Maybe me and my evil hand can-" 

"Get broken! They're not here. No one's here. But me. I'm here. But only because I'm waiting." 

"Where are they?" he demanded, husky voice dark with emotion. "I'm not going to let them touch her, Cordelia-" 

"Yes, I know, Lindsey, but they're not here. They're out- searching, and you can't get in there so you should just go home, and then I'll call you when I hear anything-" 

"Lindsey?!" 

Cordelia froze, and suddenly groaned when Lindsey stiffened in front of her. 

"Bethany?!" 

"Oh, DAMMIT. Fine," she muttered, resignation flowing through her agitated body as she moved aside. "Come in, loverboy." 

She was pushed into the doorframe when Lindsey moved past her and straight into Bethany's waiting arms. 

"EXCUSE you!" Blowing at the bangs sticking on her sweaty face, Cordelia rolled her eyes, moving back into the room and immediately 'locking' the entrance. 

She turned just in time to catch Bethany and Lindsey engaging in a furious bout of tonsil hockey. 

"Oh, great." 

"Oh, God, Lindsey," Bethany clutched onto him tightly, hands cradling his face as she caressed his cheeks, eyes moist with unshed tears. 

"Baby, you all right? You all right?" He closed his eyes, buried his face into her shoulder, rubbing rhythmically down her back. "God, I was so scared. I was so scared-" 

"Can you two tone it down?!" Cordelia hissed, coming forward to attempt to get between Romeo and Juliet. "Have you forgotten that we're in some SERIOUS doo-doo?!" 

"Doo-doo?" 

"We gotta get her outta here," Lindsey breathed, wrapping an arm around Bethany's waist and moving toward the door. 

"Are you mental?!" Cordelia's hands went to her hips, glaring through the hick lawyer. "We wouldn't get two blocks before the guards outside would take her out." 

"I didn't see any guards." 

"Yes, I know. They're surprisingly lax about who they let in," she drawled, rolling her eyes as she paced the room. "But if they see her, we're dead. It's okay. Angel's getting the group and when they get here, we can get out. So just KEEP the romantic fumblings to a minimum and-" 

"HEY! Who locked the door?!" 

Three forms swung to the dimensional opening. 

"Oh, God," Cordelia whispered, the shadows of the Champions congregating around it. 

"LIGHT BRIGHT!" 

"SORRY! I um... had to fix my bra! Just a sec!" 

"Your BRA!?" 

"Your bra?" Bethany whispered. "How lame is that?!" 

"How the hell are we going to keep them from getting in here?!" Lindsey hissed. 

"It'll be okay," Cordelia said quickly, eyes suddenly focused on the weapons cabinet. No. Too obvious. She moved her gaze to Marksy's desk. "Here. Get in." 

"Are you kidding?!" 

"COME on!" Cordelia nearly growled her order, stamping her foot in emphasis. After a nod from Lindsey, Bethany grudgingly obliged, squeezing into the roll top desk. 

"If you don't get me outta here soon, I'm going to be really pissed off." 

"Bethany, you wanna deal with the room full of demons, be my guest," Cordelia snapped. "Until then, SHUT. UP." Pulling a chair for Lindsey, she instructed him to sit. "And KEEP QUIET." 

"LIGHT BRIGHT!" 

"COMING! Keep your shirts on!" 

"I'm NOT wearing a shirt!" 

Coming forward, Cordelia took only a minute to compose herself, before she managed a smile and raised her hand, concentrating to unlock the door. 

"WHAT is your problem?!" she demanded, stepping back to let in Al and Miller. 

"What was wrong with your bra?" Al asked, and suddenly blinked, zeroing in the fidgeting lawyer in the corner. "And how come he got to see it?" 

"He came in here and went all girly man on me," Cordelia muttered. "Started weeping like a nancy boy, what was I supposed to tell you? A man has pride." 

"He don't," Miller said, grinning as he came forward. "Hey, kid. How's the evil hand?" 

"You know what? Fuck you," Lindsey snarled. 

"Hasn't lost his bite, though," Al responded, swinging his sword around. "So tell us, kid. Where's your girlfriend?" 

"If I knew, you'd think I'd tell you?" 

"If he knew, he wouldn't be smart enough to keep it a secret," Miller groused, studying Cordelia. "He didn't give you a shiner too, did he?" 

"No, the damned rat did!" Cordelia said. "Saw it, freaked out, fell on my ass." 

"A rat WOULD scare you. Facing demons and it's a little damned mouse that I could have eaten." 

"Eat the lawyer boy," Miller responded, nodding to Bugsy as he slunk in on his claws. 

"Nah. Too slimy." 

Cordelia shared a glance with Lindsey, shook her head ever so slightly. 

Lindsey's jaw clamped, but he nodded. He had the sense enough to keep quiet. 

"Any news, boys?" Cordelia asked, purposely casual as she moved to the front of the desk. 

"Yeah. I've never been so damned tired in my life," Gypsy responded, shuffling to the desk and sitting down. 

"Weren't you supposed to be gone by now?" Miller queried, thumbs tapping a rhythm on his stomach. 

"Don't I wish," she grumbled, settling next to Lindsey. The young man's heart was racing, and even she could hear the shallow breaths. Licking her lips, she carefully placed a hand on his arm, hoping no one picked up the soft glow. 

He immediately calmed down. 

Thank GOD. 

Miller let out a sigh, suddenly contemplative as he stared into the open dimension. "You know- we've searched that dimension in and out, and she's not there. She'd want to be going home, right?" 

"You thinking-" 

"She'd have to come through here, wouldn't she?" 

Cordelia pushed at Marj, forcing him to get up when she threatened with a heel. "My seat first. And you guys are morons. Do you really think she'd come HERE? It'd be like going into the lion's den." 

"A desperate human's apt to do some pretty stupid things," Miller mused. He had that gleam in his eyes, and Cordelia could feel the tension mounting within her as she purposefully got up, moved away from the desk to the other side of the room. 

"Right, sure and do you really think she's desperate enough to get in here?! With all of us?" 

"Could happen. Lots of little holes and caverns in here. She could have slipped by without any of us knowing." Miller suddenly had the entire group of champions quiet, eyes on all the locked dimensional doors. "Why are all the doors locked, Cordy?" 

"To keep Boo from getting inside Monstropolis, Sully," she cracked. "Fine. You want them open?" Immediately she began to wave her hand at the doors, unlocking the combinations. 

"That would be funny," Al mused, "If she was around here and none of us knew it." 

Lindsey shifted uneasily, arms crossing as he scooted closer to the desk. Cordelia glared. God, idiot. BE more obvious. 

"What if she WAS around here?" 

"Well, why don't you guys go check?" she asked, indicating to the rooms. "Each Champion take a hallway. I'm not going anywhere, I'll -" 

"Let her go right through." 

Cordelia fell silent when suddenly Miller looked straight at her. "You know, Glow Bug, you've been acting mighty weird, lately. Not trying to hide anything from us, are you?" 

She nearly lurched when her stomach dropped out from her under her, and nearly flipped her over. 

There was a too loud laugh, and a narrowed glare as she responded, "Are you kidding? On my own time?" 

"You've got Lindsey here? You were pretty nice to the guy- maybe he had something to do with it-" 

"You think he's smart enough to-" 

"I think he's smarter than he lets on. Smart enough to walk away from that law firm, wasn't he?" Miller suddenly whirled, the entire Champion group closing in on the hapless lawyer. 

"I don't know crap, okay?" he responded, turning three shades of red. 

Cordelia took two deep breaths, and suddenly moved forward. "Guys, leave him alone, okay, he's doesn't now anyth-" 

"Well. I can certainly understand your type now, if this is the company you keep." 

Cordelia blinked, froze, and closed her eyes against the voice that broke into the fray. 

No- NO- NO-NONONONONONONONONONONO. 

Turning on her heel, she didn't want to look. She did NOT want to look. 

Her insides squelched and her headache suddenly grew ten times worse. 

"Mrs. Sanderson!" 

Miller stood directly behind her, head cocking at the view of the woman standing in the doorway between earth and the hell dimension. 

"Who invited Judi Dench?" 

Never even bothering to look back, Cordelia smacked him, moving forward with a huge smile plastered on her face. "Mother!" 

"Don't you MOTHER me." Mrs. Sanderson III had a British accent (of COURSE she had a British accent) and stood ram rod straight as she stared down her nose at Cordelia Chase as if she was some sort of bug she wanted squashed. "Not after what you did to my son." She raised her eyebrow as she glanced at the company staring openly behind Cordelia's painfully smiling face. "Are these your so-called Champions? These ugly beasts?" 

"Ugly beasts?!" Al grumbled, tail wagging despite his attempts to still it with his hands. "Now, you listen lady, back in my dimension, I'm known as quite the catch-" 

"Young... thing, you will refrain from this conversation. This is between Ms. Chase and myself, and now you listen-" 

"Mrs. Sanderson, I'm truly sorry but-" 

"But what?!" She practically snorted, hands held daintily on her purse as she sniveled at Cordelia. "What you've done is inexcusable. Leaving the poor boy locked up, making us miss two flights, while you come here and consort with these low-lives, getting into bar fights-" 

"Bar fights?!" 

"Well, yes. I wouldn't presume my poor boy gave you that bruise! And you, carrying on when you're supposed to be married, tomorrow!" 

Cordelia's mouth fell slack. She blinked, and once again tried to get in on the one-sided conversation. "Mrs. Sanderson, if you would only listen-" 

"I've heard and seen quite enough, thank you. Just hand me Douglas' money, and his other things and I shall be on my way and you can be free to the little murderer you've caught-" 

"What?!" 

The world never really did swallow you up whole when you wanted it to. 

"We have GOT to start LOCKING THAT DOOR!" Cordelia burst. 

"Wait a minute-" Miller pushed his way to the front of the pack, the intimidating demon now looking down at the elder lady. "What murderer? What are you talking about?" 

"Which one is it? They all look like heathens and murderers to me." 

"Cordelia-" 

"Guys!" Cordelia managed a weak, sloppy grin. "She's crazy, okay? She's loopy! I never said ANYTHING about a murderer or CATCHING a-" She found herself taking a step back. 

"I'm quoting my son, and he has NEVER lied to me," Mrs. Sanderson said self-righteously. 

"Oh yeah?!" Cordelia burst. "Did he tell you about the great sex we had when..." At the look the lady shot at her, Cordelia stopped herself. "But that doesn't really matter..." 

"Cordelia-" 

Suddenly she had a whole group of demons all staring down at her. 

"CORDELIA, WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?" 

"NOTHING!" 

"What are you trying to pull-" 

"Guys, I'm not pulling anything!" They were advancing now, and she was retreating, and Oh-SHIT she was going to kill Douglas' mom. "I never said I had found her, I said I was TRYING to find her-" 

"Listen, Light Bright-" 

Oh, shit. They were pissed. "Okay, guys? Who're going to believe, me or Judi Dench?" 

"Judi Dench," they all announced. 

"Did you SEE Iris?" Miller asked. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake-" 

"What the hell are you asking her for?" The voice belonged to Lindsey Macdonald. The young man stood straight and tall, anger blazing on his features. "She's only a dumb broad. She doesn't know shit. I'm the one that got her out. Only I know where she is." 

Cordelia blinked. "DUMB BROAD?!" 

She was still quivering from the insult when they all turned away from her and now advanced on Lindsey. 

"I knew this little shit did something." 

"Little shit?" Lindsey laughed. "Yeah, that's going to get you places." 

"Where's your girlfriend, Lawyer Boy? Evil hand take her some place?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" 

"Um... Guys?" Cordelia closed her mouth as she crossed her arms, suddenly overwhelmed as poor Lindsey got pushed and prodded back and forth between the groups. Her eyes trained on the desk. Stay, Bethany, she implored silently. Stay. 

"What, so now you want to listen to me? Now you suddenly care what the little human has to say? Well, guess what? FUCK you guys. I'm not telling you shit." 

Mrs. Sanderson ruffled liked a peacock, and Cordelia closed her eyes, praying for a miracle. 

She got a very dumb lawyer, instead. 

"You'll tell us, you little beatnick, or we'll toss you head first into the biggest damned ditch you ever saw straight into hell." 

Cordelia winced. She hated when they did that. 

Lindsey was unfazed. He stood defiantly in front of all of them, and then, like most young men completely head over heels in love, did the most insanely, stupid thing. 

"Catch me first." 

With a yell, he slammed his fist into Miller's crotch. 

Miller went down with a groan, hand suddenly cupping his nether regions as Lindsey whirled, and dove headfirst into the first hell portal he saw. 

Cordelia's eyes widened. Oh, my- 

Howling with rage, Miller scrambled to his feet. 

The mass exodus left her breathless, and Cordelia found herself frozen to the floor when every Champion followed after him, running after Lindsey with spears and swords. 

"Oh. My-" 

"What happened?" 

"GOD?!" Cordelia screeched, whirling and holding a hand to her beating heart when the figure spoke up right next to her. "GOD! DUMB ASS. Don't EVER DO THAT AGAIN!" 

Faith grinned. "Hey C'.Cavalry's here." 

-- 

_END CHAPTER_   



	13. Chapter Thirteen

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

_"Has - has anyone ever told you you're exactly like Lassie? Yeah. You're like Angel's Lassie. Sure, he does most of the saving but it's your visions that tell him that Timmy is trapped in the well, or the robbers are hiding in the barn. He really needs and depends on you."_   
_"Well, thanks. I'd be flattered except for the Lassie being a *dog* part."_   
Fred and Cordelia, That Vision Thing 

-- 

At first, the panic physically hurt. Cordelia's palm clasped over her all too human heart, suddenly whirling and finding a group of familiar friends standing behind Faith. Immediately, her gaze skimmed over Gunn with his homemade axe and girlfriend Fred, dutifully holding her crossbow, past Wesley with his sword and over Connor with his wild eyes and wild shirt, through Mrs. Sanderson with her haughty and besotted look, and finally saw Angel, walking around the bunch, armed with nothing but his bare hands and his teeth. 

"Angel!" Stepping forward, he gave her a grim smile, never touching her despite her instinctive reaction to reach for his hands, and looked down at her with his brooding eyes. 

"Where is she?" 

"Oh..." Cordelia took a hard swallow in an attempt to clear her head, suddenly remembering why she was here and what she was doing. "There." Pointing, she let Angel head to the desk, taking her footsteps instead to the open portal to the dimension where Lindsey disappeared, now a torrid whirl of darkness and cloudy mist. "He'll be dead in ten minutes," she said heavily. The Slayer peeked over Cordelia's shoulder, taking in the scene with a sigh and shaking her head in response. 

"With his short ass legs, make it more like six." 

Both women shared a grimace before turning back to the now deserted Pressroom, where Charles Gunn and Fred were quickly gathering weapons, centering them on the table. 

"What on earth is going on here?" 

Ignoring Mrs. Sanderson's outburst, Cordelia turned instead to the vampire, and found him gently bringing Bethany out from the desk, the girl's shaky form now openly trembling, fear obvious and almost painful to view as she gazed at them imploringly. 

"Where'd he go." 

"Relax," Angel murmered, "He'll be fine. Hey Bethany." 

She managed a half-crazed grin. "Hey, Angel. You look good." 

"Thanks. Been going light on the pigs blood, drinking lamb." The lame joke almost made Cordelia smile, but as she once again looked a the portal, her chest tightened, and she closed a hand over his wrist. 

"Angel..." 

His eyes were still focused on Bethany, honing on the scratches and blood on her face. When he finally looked up, he froze. 

"What happened?" he demanded, suddenly standing to cup Cordelia's face, tilting it to inspect the black and purple patch spreading on the side of her cheek. 

"It doesn't matter," she responded, slapping his hand away with an indrawn hissed when he pressed down on it. "And stop that! That hurts. Angel, we're in trouble." 

"I saw the guards outside." 

"Five of them, my last count," Wesley offered, leaning against the doorway, half in and half out of the portal. "And they're Grecians." 

The news made her insides shudder, close her eyes to absorb it for just one more second, opening them again to find Angel staring. 

"You know what that means." 

"We can't take them out." 

"Why not?" Glancing at Connor, Cordelia found the teen ready for action, stakes affixed to his wrist, eyes darting around the room. "We can just kill them." 

"I demand to know what's going on!" 

Faith cast a perplexed look to the elder lady still standing in the door. "Who's that?" 

"We can't take out guards for the Powers that Be, sweetie," Fred answered patiently, pausing in her task of setting up a triage. "That's as bad as killing an angel." 

"My father?" 

"No, actual angels, Connor," Angel said. Suppressing a roll of her eyes, Cordelia instead snapped her fingers, turning her ex-husband's attention back to her. 

"Angel," she said breathlessly. "We can't leave Lindsey in there by himself. They'll kill him." 

Angel blinked. "Ask me if I care." 

The callous face was not lost on Bethany, and when the younger girl's eyes narrowed, Cordelia responded by smacking him on the arm. "Angel, shut up." Motioning with her eyes, she glared. 

"Cordelia Chase! You will explain yourself this very minute! Who is this young lady! Is this the murderer!" Mrs. Sanderson's façade was wearing out, and Cordelia turned to the see the frazzled lady now blinking in confusion, pushing past the others in an effort to make sense of the situation that was very quickly careening out of control. 

When Faith quirked an eyebrow, and Fred and Gunn exchanged a look, Cordelia managed a shaky smile of her own, taking the elder lady's hands and rubbing soothingly. "Mrs. Sanders, if you'd just give me five minutes..." 

"I don't want five minutes, I want answers now! You'll tell me what you've done to my boy, or I'll wait until those monsters return and tell them exactly what you have sitting over-" 

"Who's this?" The cool question came from Angel, the vampire now staring darkly at the lady, brown eyes calloused and cold. 

She managed a half-hearted shrug before she quickly said, "Douglas' mother." 

"How on earth did she get in here?" Wesley asked, coming forward to glare at the elder lady. "We had to sneak in as it was." 

"I can still go kill the guards," Connor volunteered. 

"Guys, I think she's passing out," Fred suddenly said, whirling past them and catching Bethany just as the girl nearly slid off the seat. 

"Aww, shit," Faith murmured, brushing Cordelia's shoulder as she dropped her dagger and knelt down. "She's lost some blood guys. We gotta get her the fuck outta here before they come back." 

"We can't get past the guards, and ya'll know what'll happen if we manage to kill them," Charles announced, worry creasing his face. 

"I'm not a mood to start a war with the Powers that Be, Angel." 

"I know, Wesley." Angel's voice was rough, angered, and he closed his eyes, thinking a minute. When they opened, the orbs were dark as midnight, once again trained on the lady. "She's seen too much. If she goes outside squawking the guards will hear and ring the alarm." 

Cordelia's eyes widened at the look of intention on his face. "ANGEL! You're not going to-" 

"Faith, Wesley. Take her." 

Immediately Faith stood, and Mrs. Sanderson' face shifted from anger, to confusion to fear as Wesley immediately grabbed her elbow, nodding to his girlfriend. 

"ANGEL!" Cordelia tried to step forward, intercept. Angel immediately caught her by her elbows, pulling her back hard against his chest, barking the orders. 

"Out into the corridors, keep her quiet and keep her safe until this is over. Whatever you do, keep those damned demons away from her." 

"You got it." 

"NO! NO!" Panic rose in Cordelia's throat as she saw her mother-in-law pulled forcefully towards one of the portals, Faith and Wesley easily leading her. 

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME! I'LL HAVE YOU BOTH ARRESTED!" 

"MRS. SANDERSON! I'm SORRY! Oh, GOD..." Despair was quickly overwhelming the Seer as she struggled in Angel's arms, eyes closing to ward off the images of Bethany nearly fainting in the chair, Connor glowering at the doorway, Mrs. Sanderson's legs kicking as she was dragged- "I can't do this, Angel. Please... just let me go get Douglas-" 

"Cordelia!" There was a shift of weight, and suddenly she was facing Angel, staring into his dark face as he glared at her, nearly shaking her in his anger. "Get a grip, okay? You're Cordelia fucking Chase, and you're in a crisis and we HAVE to save Bethany, okay?" 

She tried to speak above the hammering of her heart, and the conflicting emotions were never this hard to decipher. 

"I know you care about that lady. But we have a soul that will DIE, Cordelia. And I'll be damned if I lose another person to the mission. Help me save her." Now his voice was low, pleading and almost angry. "You know what will happen to her, to us, if we don't save her, Cordelia. You know that the worst thing that can happen to a soul is to crush it, make it believe that it's alone, abandoned. You know what it's like to cry into the sand and wish you could just make it all stop, end it all in that one moment just so you don't have to feel." His eyes narrowed, spoke directly into her shuddering form. "You want to end it, Cordelia, fine. Let's end it. The right way." 

The way she was breathing was killing her. It was as if she couldn't get enough air. Finally, she managed, "Do you pull this bull on everyone?" 

There was a moment of silence before he ventured a crooked smile. "Just you. Did it work?" 

Ever so slowly, her hands rose to his palms, now holding her shoulders in a fierce grip. Tangled fingers squeezed once, desperate against the cool skin of the vampire she married, divorced, tried to leave... 

"God, Angel, sometimes I hate you," she whispered. Pushing off his hands, she nodded shakily. "I'm going to kill you later." He studied her face for a minute, as if testing her reaction. "I'm fine," she said, tone now more aggravated than angry. "I'm fine. Let's do this." Turning to Gunn and Fred, she strode forward, carefully as she helped Bethany sit up. "I need you guys to follow Lindsey. Whatever you do, stay away from the demons, but try to keep him alive. I don't care how you do it, but DON'T let them kill him." 

The lovers cast each other doubtful looks. "But what if we get lost?" Fred said. 

"You won't," Cordelia said shortly. "The one they went through? It's like a maze, wherever you go, you always end up here." She focused her gaze on Angel. "Which means we don't have much time." 

"Right," he said immediately. "Connor." 

The bark immediately brought the son over. "Yeah, dad." 

"Why don't you go outside and play with those guards?" 

The little boy who'd grown to a man in a world of hells and dangers lit up at the thought of the 'game', and Cordelia felt a slight stab in her heart at the sight. She had missed it. Missed what happened when Connor changed from a teenager seething with hate to a young man with a scarred past. So very much like his father. 

"Got it," Connor said, immediately moving toward the door, every bit the Destroyer the prophecies foretold. 

"Connor." The word from his father brought him to a stop. "Don't kill them." 

It was an order that he would find hard to follow, but it was a testament to the months she missed when Connor stiffly nodded, and left the room. 

"Nice to know you two have bonded with violence." 

"It'll keep them all busy." 

And there it was, the rapid beating in her heart that came with the realization that there was nothing that existed now but her, Angel, and a lost soul, as the two pairs of eyes connected. 

"Well?" she asked breathlessly. "Connor may keep them busy for a while, but we're still stuck here. I don't know how we can get her out without anyone seeing, and we can't leave Fred and Gunn, and Faith and-" 

"Wesley, I know," he answered, stalking the room in his version of a pace, eyebrows knitting together as he licked his lips. Stopping suddenly, he whirled on his heel, suddenly catching her with a startled expression. "Kate," he said immediately. "The guards are still part of that world. They have to follow that doctrine. If Kate shows up and arrests them-" 

"Then by law they have to follow. They can't interfere with that dimension," she said, catching on quickly enough, heart quickening. 

"And we can take her out in the five minutes she has them before they break out," Angel finished. "That's it." 

"Good... good." Ripping off a piece of fabric from the lining of her ruined leather jacket, Cordelia knelt in front of Bethany. Distractedly, she held the cloth to Bethany's face, wiping at the sweat before she turned back to her companion. "That doesn't help us with the Powers." 

"That's where you come in," Angel said quickly. "Start working on that character of witness, I'll talk to Kate. Do you have your phone?" 

"On the table." 

He dismissed her immediately, heading to the phone and giving it the trademark 'I hate technology' grimace, before he began to dial. 

Cordelia found herself staring slightly, motions suddenly pausing as she remembered a dozen times in a dozen situations where she had felt exactly like this. 

"Cordelia?" Bethany glanced at her curiously, pale face deep with shadows and bruises. 

"Hmm?" 

"We got a chance, right?" 

And Cordelia grinned, squeezing Bethany's shoulder and standing up. "You betcha." 

Sitting down, she pulled out her laptop, and started typing. 

-- 

This was perhaps the first time ever that Faith was glad that her mother wasn't exactly the parental type, and had kept her ass away from her for the last fifteen years. After all these years hearing about Wesley and Cordelia's own birth parents, there was no wonder that they had adopted each other as family. 

Some parents just SUCKED. 

"I'm gonna kill this lady, Wes," she muttered, grunting when Mrs. Sanderson III tried to step on her foot for the third time. 

"LET ME GO! I DEMAND IT!" 

"Consider it a trial of faith, Faith," Wesley said, tossing a smile her way as he turned back to the dark brown corridors of the current hell dimension. 

"Right, cause I'm all about the 'trials of Faith'," she quipped, pausing as she pushed a bang sticking onto her sweaty forehead out of the way, breathing out slowly. 

"Young lady, do you realize you are facing a jail sentence?" Faith blinked, suddenly bringing the Judi Dench lookalike back into focus, the judgment and fear blatant on the woman's face. Any other time, Faith supposed she would have felt sorry for her. Poor old bat just got thrown into this, as did her son. 

But it didn't really matter, not really. She never asked to be called. She never asked to be fucking gutted and put into a coma for a fucking year. Wesley never asked to be tortured sadistically by a girl who would one day love him and hate herself for what she did. He had never asked to be put in a situation where he had to choose between his sanity and his love for Angel and his son. Never asked that his throat be slit, never asked to be pushed away from the only family he knew- 

Buffy never asked to have her mother die, to be called to a life where everything she lived and loved imploded at the touch of her fingertips. 

No one fucking asked for anything. And it wasn't fair. 

But Faith didn't care. Not anymore. Not when there was a chance of keeping one more girl from feeling like there was no choice but the one that led to hopeless evil, despair, and emptiness. 

So she smiled at the lady with a sneer that made the haughty look falter, and with a wink to Wesley she drawled, "Been there, done that. Twice. Get your ass moving. No one's going to hurt you, okay?" she muttered, once again closing her hand around Mrs. Sanderson's arm. "You're son's not going to be into any trouble, and if you hadn't gone all chicken-shit and pecked your way into our affairs-" 

"CHICKEN!?" 

"My dear lady, I would please have to ask you to keep quiet, or I shall have to resort to doing something I would rather not do," Wesley finally said, irritation on his face at the outburst. 

"I will NOT keep quiet!" Judi Dench replied, straight and all and dignified despite the fact that she was between two very intimidating people draped with leather coats. "I'll have you both thrown in jail for this! I'll-" 

Faith tuned her out, cocking a tired eyebrow to her lover as she shrugged. "Okay, I'm out. What the hell did you do during YOUR evil days to shut people up? Cause, you know, I'm trying to abstain from killing any body these days and that's my only idea." 

"Normally, I just kept them tied and gagged in the closet," he said thoughtlessly. When Faith froze, he turned, suddenly catching her gaze. At her smile, his own mouth pulled into a smirk. "The closet it is, then." 

Poor Mrs. Sanderson. It finally dawned on her, and suddenly she was squacking as loudly as ever, putting up quite a fight as Faith mulled, "Wonder what we'll use for a gag?" 

"Are you wearing the black thong?" 

"PERVE." 

He laughed, turned the corner, and suddenly the laughter stopped. 

Faith came a second later, and her own features stilled completely. 

Mrs. Sanderson blinked, mouth opening slightly as she looked up, and up, and up. 

Faith felt something inside of her drop, an overwhelming urge to kick herself coupled with an almost irresistible urge to drop kick the bitch that was practically eating her boyfriend alive with her eyes. 

"Hello Skip," Wesley's voice was deceptively easily. "Lilah." 

Faith crossed her arms, and blinked. 

Shiiiit. 

-- 

Cordelia had never forgotten her higher than average SAT scores, and had always hid the fact that most of it was verbal. She was no poet, but she damned well knew how to make her words count, and that was what mattered in this damned trial. 

Words. Theories. Reputation and anger and bitterness, and above all, the truth. 

In reality, The Powers that Be liked the Greek way of doing things. Sure, they had their Champions and their Seers, and once in a while, yeah, they settled things with violence, but when it came to the heavy stuff, those higher beings just loved their debates. To be honest, she had been bored stiff with it in her short stint up there. 

Still, once in a while, when there was no choice but to rely on the power of words, Cordelia relished the challenge. It was the one thing that Angel was no good, that Faith couldn't fight her way out of, that Wesley couldn't research enough of. What it was, was trust in a person, the ability to convey it, to make a higher being who's own mental thinking was ten million times the capacity of her own believe that a soul, the most precious thing in any dimension, deserved to be free. 

Bethany rested in her chair, eyes closed, exhausted from her escape. The locked doors of the portal gave little light, and Cordelia found her own eyes aching as she squinted at the dimly lit monitor. Angel's barks and orders on her cellphone a welcome distraction, comfortable noise as she leaned back, glanced over what she had written. 

"The laws of human nature have presented the most curious of dilemmas," she mumbled. 

"What?! Kate, I can't wait for a vampire bicycle gang! I know it's important but- I know it's not your dimension, but- Kate, don't put me on hold-" Angel sighed, eyes rolling heavenward as he stalked around with the phone on his ear. "Damnit." 

"Cordelia." 

Cordelia glanced up quickly, recognized the intruder, smiled, and immediately answered, "Hello, Douglas," before leaning forward, suddenly typing again. 

_-That a human soul could love in world where nothing was presented to her but hate-_

"What the hell do you want?" Angel growled, giving Douglas a glare before turning his attention back to the phone. "Kate? Yeah." 

Douglas Sanderson III, mortal young man, dusty trench coat hanging loosely from his shoulders, previously combed hair now hanging in bangs down over his handsome face, stood in doorway of the Pressroom, eyes wide as he glanced over the open portals to other worlds flashing around the room. It was new, and exciting, and for a minute, he gawked. The roving gaze, however, eventually landed on his fiance. Now focused on Cordelia, who was now typing furiously over the computer, oblivious to anyone as the vampire she called her ex-husband continued to bark into the phone, he felt the awe slip for something else, something bitter. 

"Cordelia," Douglas said, coming forward to plant his palms on the side of the desk nearest to her. "I just want to ask you one thing-" 

"Douglas?!" Oh, so she had just realized he was in the room. Cordelia flashed him a startled, lovely grin with hazel eyes nearly bursting with brilliance. "How'd you get out of jail?!" 

"Listen, buddy- this is the Pressroom, no human-" 

"SHUT UP, Angel," Douglas barked, flipping the vampire the middle finger before turning back to Cordelia, who had once again started typing. "I had to wire for money from Maine, Cordelia. NO thanks to you- Cordelia- I said I had to wire the money- Cordelia!" 

"Did you, sweetie?" 

"YEAH, I did!" he said, slamming his hands on the table, desperate for her attention. Cordelia didn't seem to notice, mouthing words as she typed. "I don't even know what they're going to think of me there once they hear of this-" 

"Kate, I don't CARE if the bicycle gang is mowing down the discter demons for sport, those guys are baby killers! YES, they are! Just because one guy is an actual good guy doesn't mean the whole group is-" 

Cordelia blinked, hands stilling. "Oh... well, you know what? I'll explain ... something when we get up there, Douglas, don't worry." 

"Good! Kate, yes I know it's not right for me to judge a species based on what they eat but- Yes, I know I drink blood-" 

The slight tremors of a headache stung the back of his temples. Douglas sighed, slow and controlled, trying to collect his thoughts between the clack-clack of Cordelia's fingers on the keyboard and Angel's annoying growl at the end of every sentence. 

"Cordelia," he tried again. "Where's my mother? She said she was coming to see you." 

"She left," Cordelia said immediately. 

"Where?" 

"I don't know. She's somewhere." Cordelia's lips quirked for a second. "Doesn't she look like Judi Dench?" 

He had her attention for half a second, before she shrugged and turned back to the moniter, squinting as she peered into the monitor. 

"No, Kate, I'm not just saying that because I'm a vampire with a soul-" 

Oh, for goodness' sakes. 

"CORDELIA!" Losing patience, Douglas jerked a hand forward, closing his fingers over Cordelia's wrist, forcing her gaze onto his face. "I'm worried, okay? I had to run past a crazy kid beating up some poor bums outside-" 

"HA! That's my boy!" 

"Shut up, Angel," Cordelia snapped. 

"TELL ME where my mother went?" 

"GEEZ! Calm down, broody boy!" Cordelia rolled her eyes, glancing at him before turning back to the computer. "She didn't say." 

"Yes, I KNOW that I'm not the only vampire with a soul anymore, Kate. No, I'm not trying to make myself seem special-" 

"Well, did she get the tickets from you?" Exasperation turned Douglas' voice into a husky drawl. 

"No, she left in a hurry." 

"Well, where are they?!" 

"In my jacket," Cordelia responded, flicking a long fingernail to a pile of misshapen leather in the middle of the table. 

"Kate, you're kind of missing the point here. Yes, I realize I have a mission, and sometimes it includes staying on earth- KATE, WILL YOU LISTEN?!' 

Douglas moved around the shouting Angel to fumble with the tattered remains of the jacket, finally finding the tickets strewn under it. "What about that certified check?!" 

"Here, hold on." With a heavy sigh, Cordelia pushed from the table and stood, leaning over the table to reach into her purse. "You'll find the money in your wallet." Cordelia slapped the leather into his palms and once again sat down and continued typing. 

"What the..." With almost trembling hands, Douglas opened the wallet and found his face smiling at him from his driver's license. Stuffed inside was a wad of bills, and the certified check. Douglas gave a short, enraged gasp. "This IS my wallet! Wait a minute, Cordelia-" 

A pale hand swiped the bills out of his hand, and Douglas whirled, mouth dropping when he found the culprit. Angel studied the bills, an unreadable expression painted on his face. 

"What are you doing?!" he asked angrily, snatching them back. 

"Just wanted to look at it," Angel responded, flashing a smile before turning back to the phone. "Kate-" 

Putting the money protectively into his wallet, Douglas turned his attention once more on his wayward fiancé. "Cordelia. CORDELIA." She gave him a distracted nod. "I'm taking the nine o'clock flight." She just kept typing. 

"Sounds great, honey." 

He could have just asked her to scrub the floor with a toothbrush, and she probably would have answered the same way. "Did you hear what I said, Cordelia?" 

"Sure." 

"CORDELIA. I said I'm taking the-" 

"Nine o'clock flight'" she chimed in with, suddenly yelping. "CRAP. Douglas, I put it in here!" Immediately she brushed the hair out of her eyes and hit the delete key. "Stop that!" 

"HEY!" From the other side of the room, Angel glared. "Can't you see she's busy-" 

"FUCK you, Angel," Douglas responded, flipping his blonde hair back to his mistress. "Cordelia. I just want to know just- CORDELIA. If you can answer just one question-" 

"Douglas, sweetie, can you do me a favor?" she asked quickly. 

"Did you ever love me at all?" 

"NO!" Angel glared at the receiver. "KATE, I NEVER said I didn't care about YOU, I just said I didn't care about the precinct- Have you touched that sensitivity stick lately?!" 

"CORDELIA- just tell me, okay? Can you be honest for just one second-" 

"LISTEN, you little wart, if you don't leave her alone-" 

"SHUT UP, Angel!" Douglas burst, pointing a shaking finger at the vampire with the cellphone permanently attached to his ear. "This is YOUR damned fault! She wanted to get away from you- from all of this, and you... you like a VAMPIRE you just went and you caught her in your- Cordy!" Turning back, he once again attempted to get Cordelia's focus. "You'd leave me for HIM?! For this VAMPIRE?!" 

"Oh, my GOD, Douglas, I'm NOT leaving you for him-" 

"Kate, I PROMISE I will handle the motorcycle gang tomorrow! Yes, tomorrow! Because if you don't get your ass down here we'll be dead before then!" Angel growled at Douglas between pleas to Kate. "And YOU, idiot, you just-" 

"But can't you see this is the most important thing in my LIFE?! LOOK AT HER, Douglas?!" Cordelia shook a palm to the sleeping Bethany. The girl snorted in her sleep, shifting on her uncomfortable perch, and being still again. 

"Fine," Douglas said, hands lifting in resignation. "I'm on hold, is that it? Like you stuck me in a fridge-" 

"That reminds me," Cordelia suddenly paused. "Angel, we should get her back into the desk before they come back-" 

"In a minute- KATE!" 

"You just don't love me." 

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Douglas, that's not true!" Cordelia gave a heavy, frustrated sigh. "I do love you, sweetie, I do- You're missing the damned point, okay?" 

"No, I got the point. You never wanted to be normal. You never wanted to be decent." 

"Right, sweetie, you got me pegged!" The words were dripping with sarcasm. Anger edged into her features. 

And she didn't care. Douglas stood, shoulders slumping as he stared disbelievingly. "That's it, isn't it?" he whispered. "You never cared about me, all you cared about was the mission-" 

"WILL you shut up?!" Angel shouted from across the room. "NO, Kate, I didn't mean you-" 

"You're just like him!" 

"I am NOT a vampire, okay?!" Cordelia stopped long enough to blow a bang out of her eyes before glaring at her fiancé. "I'm a half demon- and I'm not JUST- you know what? I don't want to do this right now- FINE, Douglas, I am JUST LIKE ALL OF THEM- Faith and Gunn and Fred and-" 

"KATE! No, I full appreciate the role you play as vital to Angel Investigations, you're missing-" 

"The point, Douglas! I can't just leave like this when this is going on and you just don't understand-" 

"Cordelia, I understand perfectly about you wanting to help but I'm just trying to tell you-" 

"Wait, wait, wait." Cordelia suddenly stopped, hazel eyes liquid as she stared up into the air for a minute. "There's just one question I want to know." 

There was a shake in his heart, a small burst of hope in Douglas heart as she stopped typing, looked up sharply. "What?" he asked. 

She swiveled her gaze. "Angel! That girl we saved before, you know? During the trial when Wes almost fried?" 

Angel paused in his rant, considering. "You mean the one with the wart on her-" 

"Right." 

"Fanny," he said immediately. 

"Thanks." 

And that was it. This was the truth. He was lost in a room where a Seer typed and a Champion spoke and a lost soul slept in the corner, heedless of the entire ordeal. 

In that minute, he knew, there was no place for him in this world, her world. 

"I don't think you ever loved me at all, did you?" he whispered to the woman typing with the glint in her eyes, nearly glowing in her speed. A grim smile froze his handsome features, and nodding shortly, he took a step back, away from her, and moving toward the portal to his earth. When he reached the opening, he couldn't resist one last plea. "If you change your mind, I'm leaving on the nine o'clock flight." 

Cordelia kept typing, and Angel cocked an eyebrow as the man disappeared and the portal flashed, closing behind him. 

"Good." Angel finally closed the phone, settling down at the table with a heavy sigh, arms crossed. "She's on her way. Fifteen minutes and we can get her out of here." 

"Great!" Cordelia flashed him a grin before once again frowning at the screen. She blinked, suddenly looking around. "Hey, where'd Douglas go?" 

-- 

"Well... This is awkward." 

"Wes, if you make another stupid ass obvious comment like that, or look one more time at Lilah's breasts, I'm going to skip going postal on them and am just going to kick YOUR ass, okay?" 

Faith shifted on her feet, hands behind her back, unsure as hell about what to do in their little "High Noon"ish show down. Lilah Morgan (skanky bitch) crossed her arms, smirk growing on her (evil ass) face as she glanced from Wesley, to her, to Wesley, to her. 

"Skip," Wesley said evenly, ever the gentleman even IN highly volatile situations. 

"Wesley," he returned. "Any reason why you're running around in my hell dimension with an old lady and a Slayer?" 

"Love the view, actually." 

Lilah (skanky bitch) Morgan cocked her head, grinning that 'cat that swallowed the canary' smile that Faith hated. "It's like my birthday. On Halloween. My two favorite people all in their very own hell dimension. Gee? Wouldn't it be fun to just kinda... stick them here for all eternity?" 

"What on earth..." Mrs. Sanderson III blinked twice. "And suddenly I'm so very grateful for the company of Bonnie and Clyde." 

Faith took a full step back, keeping her grip tight on the elder woman. 

Skip crossed his arms, clucking his tongue. "What on earth shall we do with them?" 

"You mean 'what on hell'?" Lilah chuckled. 

"So..." Faith mumbled out the corner of her mouth. "What do you think? Take 'em down?" 

"Probably wouldn't be in our best interests," Wesley said gently. "We still have our dear Judi Dench to worry about." 

"For the love of god, I'm NOT Judi Dench. And you two will get me away from that monstrosity and that... WOMAN at THIS MOMENT." 

Faith gave an exhausted sigh, quirking her eyebrow at Wesley when Skip grinned at them, clapping his hands together. 

"So..." 

"I say we let them have it," she remarked, loudly. 

A minute glance of understanding, and Wesley agreed. 

"Yes, let's let them have it," he responded. 

So they did. 

With a shove, Mrs. Sanderson III went like a bowling ball straight into the scrambling Lilah and Skip. 

Faith didn't stay to watch the tumble. Dragging Wesley with her, the Slayer swerved on her heel and ran as fast as she could.   
--   
**END CHAPTER**   



	14. Chapter Fourteen

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**__

_"Nothing in the world is the way it oughta be. It's harsh, and cruel. But that's why there's us. Champions. It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done, or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world were as it should be, to show it what it can be."_   
Angel, Deep Down 

-- 

"Bethany." 

Angel's cool palm rested on the forehead of the telekinetic, eyebrows knit together in concern as he stared into the glassy eyes, lips pursing together. "She's burning with fever." 

Cordelia had her eyes trained on the monitor as she answered. "Well, Sherlock, she's been stuck in a hell dimension for the past couple weeks, she'd be a little hot, yeah." 

"We can't put her back into that desk, Cordelia." 

Moving from her place on the chair to join him in kneeling in front of the telekinetic, Cordelia studied Beth with a soft gaze, moving gentle palms over the pale skin. 

"We have to get her to a hospital," she said finally. "I don't want to think about what Skip did to her." And she really didn't. He could see it in her eyes, the way her gaze averted, eyes darkening at the thought of her demon guide. It hurt her, then, to think he could be this cruel, to believe that Skip, the person who was responsible for her transformation, and for her regression, could hurt another human being to this magnitude. 

"I'm fine," Bethany stirred underneath Cordelia's fingertips, glassy-eyed as she glanced up at the couple kneeling over her. "Where's Lindsey?" 

"He's okay," Cordelia said immediately, smile tight and not altogether sincere, palm sliding onto Angel's bicep and squeezing hard. "Rest, okay? We'll be outta here soon." 

Keeping her grip on the vampire firm, Cordelia pulled him up, leading him to the corner of the room, hands on her hips as she took in a shaky breath. 

"We're running out of time." 

"I know." 

Cordelia trained her gaze on the open portals. It used to be so easy to shut them, close them so not even Champions could open it. Now, it took concentration, as the former Higher Being focused, took in an uneven breath. 

"What have you got on the character of witness?" 

Turning with a grim smile, Cordelia shrugged, striding to the small monitor and turning it into Angel's direction. "Okay, I guess. Not great." She let him glance over it, dark eyes on the screen as he quickly read. Cordelia watched him, suddenly distracted when a thought lodged in her head. "Where'd Douglas go?" 

"Oh, he left," Angel said immediately, eyes zigzagging across the screen. 

"Oh." Cordelia blinked. "Did he say he was coming back?" 

"What? Yeah," Angel said dismissively, straightening up as he crossed his arms, breathing out a long, uncharacteristic sigh. "Cordelia." 

She looked immediately concerned. "What? Is it not good?" 

"It's beautiful. But do you believe it?" The sharp statement caused her to glance, and when her roving eyes flickered over his, he caught and held them in his own stare. She looked lost, not quite sure what he meant. Angel didn't say a word, continued to search her face for any indication that she understood. It was a tactic he had used before, in their married years, a stare that spoke more than words could ever say. 

"Don't worry," she finally said stiffly, "I'll get the job done." 

"But do you believe it?" 

She froze, the glare she tossed in his direction a direct indication of just how deeply the words struck her, a lunge to her heart when she finally got it with an indrawn hiss. 

He knew that he had her. He had the admission, because if she believed in what she wrote, if she truly understood the ramifications of what she was standing up for in the character of witness for Bethany, then he knew there was no way she could walk away. 

Cordelia did not believe in lying. Although she was sometimes brilliant at being able to fool herself and the others around her, once she faced the truth, she never walked away from it, no matter what the consequences. She had fooled herself for years into believing she did not love him. It had taken her less than five minutes to decide otherwise. The trick was getting her to face herself. 

Instead she faced him, looked him straight in the eye, and answered coldly, "It doesn't matter." 

"You know it does." 

"Bite me." 

"Cordelia-" 

"HEY! Who locked the door!" 

The impending argument was cut short at the voice now drifting in from outside one of the closed dimensional portals. Cordelia's eyes widened. Immediately, she folded the laptop down, covering it from sight, shifting a glance at Bethany before moving toward Angel. 

"That's Marksopholus." 

"Who?" 

"Marksy." Her whisper now became a hiss, motioning wildly to Bethany's corner. "That's his desk." 

Oh. There was a shift now, a refusal to panic that he knew Cordelia must have appreciated, as he nodded, narrowing his eyes. "Okay. Get her in the desk. I'll take care of it." 

"Angel-" 

"Just go." 

So she did, helping Bethany up and once again squeezing the girl in the desk as carefully as she could. Bethany was wide-eyed, close to panic, but, thanks to Cordelia, he suspected, largely in control of her faculties. Otherwise, by now he and Cordelia would have been impaled by the many different weapons. 

"Angel." Cordelia almost hobbled over on her high heels. "He's a nice guy. Don't kill him." 

"I can't believe you'd think I would kill the guy." One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. It was her 'don't bullshit me' face, and he found himself flushing against it. "Fine. I won't kill him." 

"I wonder where Connor gets his homicidal tendencies from." 

The dry reply didn't faze him. 

"HEY! What's up with the door!" 

"Do it." Nodding, Cordelia took in an unsteady breath and plastered a smile on her face, waving her arm over the door, unlocking the portal with a few breathed words. 

A blue-skinned demon nearly fell in. "Hey! What's the big deal with shutting the door like..." Marksy trailed off when he found himself face to face with Angel. "Oh... hey, Angel!" Shaking his hand politely, Marksy gave the taller vampire a toothy grin. "Angel! Good to see you here! What're you doin' down here." 

"Oh, you know me, Marksy. The minute Cordy calls, I come running." 

"He's an idiot that way," Cordelia remarked, shooting him a look that was clearly meant to be interpreted as 'You're Insane'. He cocked an eyebrow, sending the gaze right back. 

She rolled her eyes in response. Cordelia's pose was intentionally casual. She crossed her legs, the dark skirt sliding open delicately to reveal in long, tan leg. Her foot rocked back and forth, encased in tan heels that she had learned to run and fight and ... 

Angel nearly reeled with the memory of the shoes, of her whispers in his ear as she scraped teeth against the underside of his jaw, heels digging into his thighs as she thrust with him- 

Those heels. 

The gaze was smoldering when she glanced at him again, and she was caught off-guard by it, more than likely completely unaware of the flash of the hot memory, or the effect it had on him. She pushed off the desk, sauntered past him with the scent of lilacs and Douglas, and smiled at Marksy. 

"How's the lawyer hunting?" 

"He's a wiry little fellow. Just came back to get the crossbow. Figured we could maim him, trip him or something-" 

Lilacs and Douglas, the rush of blood flowing through her veins and the sound of her heart beating, breath flowing through her body in the beautiful miracle of life that fed beasts like him, forced them to believe in a world where they could belong, in a world with a sun he never saw and a wife who had left him because of a mission she didn't believe in – except she did, and- 

The fist came out of nowhere, snapping with a power he hadn't used in a while, a frustration personified in the punch that whipped across Marksy's face. 

Cordelia's gasp wasn't lost on Angel as the demon fell to the floor, unconscious. 

"ANGEL!" 

"Not a problem anymore, is it?" he bit, stepping over the demon knocked cold and sticking his head through the portal. "We're running out of time." 

"God, you are such a slimeball sometimes, you know that?" He didn't bother to answer, left his wife standing over the demon's head, patting at him with her manicured fingernails that were oddly chipped. "I don't know why I even- wait." Angel once again turned to the monitor, Cordelia's half written character statement gleaming, white on black, monitor blinking, waiting to be finished. 

Waiting for the end. 

"WAIT! Did Douglas say- He said he'd be leaving on the nine o'clock flight!" Angel looked up to find Cordelia frozen into a near catatonic state, the next minute fumbling to check her watch. There was no emotion inside of him, he was oddly empty, as he watched her groan, slump down, close her eyes. "I'm never going to make it." 

"No," he answered stiffly. "You're not." 

There seemed no anger, just pure resignation and despair on her features as she gave a hollow, dry laugh. "Oh, God. You. You, Angel. You have just... ruined my life." 

"Well, apparently I'm good at that," he snapped. 

She paused, slack jawed in amazement. "Wait. So, what? NOW you're pissed? Bitter and angry all of a sudden, Passive-Aggressive Guy?!" 

"No, Cordelia, I'm not bitter, or angry, I'm focused." Standing up, he gave her a dark glance. "I need you to finish this, not worry about your love life, all right?" 

The angry face softened somewhat. Angel wasn't sure he knew what Cordelia was seeing when she searched his face the way she did, because his expression never changed, but just like always, she seemed to work out something on her own. 

"Fine," she said evenly, carefully pushing Markey's head and shoulders off her thighs and moving toward the table, sitting down at the chair, pulling the laptop toward her. 

"Thank you," he said stiffly. 

"Angel," she said suddenly, hand on his wrist as she forced him to look back at her. Cordelia's mouth was pulled into an almost sympathetic half smile, a flash of hazel that recognized something she hadn't seen before. "I'm sorry I abandoned you. I'm sorry I judged you, even when I thought you had judged me." 

"Cordy-" 

"No, I just. I owed you at least that." Once again, she gave him that tight smile, no longer full of anger or accusations, and patting her warm hand against his jacket, she turned back to the monitor. 

Something hard and painful tugged inside of him, forcing him to look away, suddenly focusing on a near portal when Faith tumbled inside. 

"Angel!" 

The Slayer was out of breath, panting as she glanced behind her, just as a sweaty Wesley also plowed through. 

"What happened?" Angel said immediately, pushing off the table. 

"Where's Mrs. Sanderson?!" That was of course, from Cordelia, the only person who actually cared. 

Faith's explanation was characteristically vague. "We're in deep shit." 

-- 

Fred Burkle felt like she was in an odd episode of Xena. She had really only seen a few episodes, but she had appreciated the campy aspect more than the darkness, and now, she wished for something of the camp sort to balance out the darkness she was feeling. 

"You okay?" 

"Nope," she answered nervously, flashing her boyfriend a grim smile. "You?" 

"Not really digging the 'rat in a maze' feeling," he responded accordingly. "And it ain't really my thing to hanging out in hell dimensions. So, no, not really." 

"We lost them again, didn't we?" Fred said, stepping toward the edge of the ledge, careful to keep her feet where she could see them. The torches hanging in the crevices provided enough flickering light to make everything look like it was moving, and being the kind of sort of girl who believed in ghosts, demons and other not-so-nice things, Fred was not one to trust that light. 

Gunn seemed to foster a more 'if I don't see it, don't mean it ain't there' approach, because he confidently stepped to the corner, and leaned forward, listening intently. 

"Nope, look! There he goes!" 

And there he went. Fred found herself fighting a bewildered smile as Lindsey MacDonald suddenly came barreling forward on the ledge below them, whooping and hollering at the top of his lungs, stopping only to hurl things with incredible accuracy behind him with his evil hand as he continued his marathon. 

The mob of demons ran after them, with their clanks and swears, nearly tripping on each other as they sped after him. 

"Wow." Charles laughed, shaking his head as he caught Fred's glance with a twinkle in his eyes. "Evil Lawyer Boy can sure run." 

"Born Again Ex-Lawyer," she reminded him. "Come on, we better catch up." 

"Yeah, so we can catch some more of the 'the Great Escape'?" Gunn asked. "We're not doin' nothing but eatin' popcorn up here." 

The thought of the movie snack brought a rumble to her stomach. "Hmm... I'd like that. You feel like going to that diner after we're done here?" she asked, slinging her crossbow over her shoulder and maneuvering around the rocks. 

"You mean if we live through this and actually manage to find our way back to God's Green Earth?" She nodded happily. "Sure." 

"Kay, I think I'll have the waffles. With the extra syrup! Ooh! And the chocolate shake!" 

"Fred-" 

The look on his face forced her to falter, grin sheepishly. "Well, maybe not, the chocolate... I could have pancakes instead!" 

"Fred, shhh." Holding his hand up, Charles listened intently, keeping completely still as he moved around her. "You hear that?" 

"What?" she whispered, now completely on edge as they both fell silent. Straining, she listened in the perfect quiet, and then, with a jolt of her heart, she heard it. 

"This way." Immediately, she followed Gunn, pulling the crossbow from her shoulder and hefting it deftly, keeping her boyfriend covered as he moved to a section of the wall. 

Studying it, her eyes widened. "It's a door!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe how we missed it." 

"I still don't see it." 

She gave him a distracted nod, and handing him the crossbow, she began to feel the moldings, eyes searching for the right lock, the catch, the- 

*CLICK* 

She smiled. "Found the click." 

Stepping back, she took her crossbow and held it up, while Gunn stepped forward with his ax. 

When the door opened the whole way, they were suddenly met with a flurry of blue and gold glitter, and a guy coughing as he stumbled to the floor. 

-- 

"It's Skip and Lilah," Wesley said, shrugging off his jacket and reaching for a broadsword. "We ran into them, almost quite literally as we were escorting the elder lady-" 

"And they know, man," Faith said quickly, throwing her jacket on the back of a wooden chair and scooping up her fallen dagger, hefting the weight. "They're in... you know... cahoots!" 

"Cahoots!" Cordelia repeated, suddenly lost to the entire situation. Skip? And Lilah? "WHY! Why would you be in cahoots- wait a minute..." Oh, God. Cordelia's heart skipped a very audible beat as she suddenly glanced to the door. "Where's Mrs. Sanderson?!" 

"We had to get out of there, so we kinda... you know..." Faith motioned with her hands, gesturing the push to Angel, who remained infuriatingly silent. 

Cordelia put the finished sentence together, and for a second she could only gape. "YOU THREW HER AT THEM?!" 

Wesley actually had the grace to look guilty, but Faith only shrugged. "Cordelia? The lady is seriously annoying, okay?" 

"Oh, my GOD," Cordelia whispered, the mantra suddenly exploding from her as she began to pace. "You might have just KILLED HER!" 

"Angel, while Cordelia goes into hysterics, perhaps we should worry about the fact that they know we're here, and are more than likely following us," Wesley spoke matter-of-factly, ignoring Cordelia's rant as Faith blinked at her. 

"Relax, 'C. They won't kill her. She's got nothing to do with this!" Whirling, Cordelia grabbed onto the Slayer's shoulders, eyes growing round. 

"DO you REALIZE what you've done?! She's going to hate me!" 

"Cordelia, she hated you when you left her son to rot in jail," Faith said flatly, shrugging off the blubbering Seer. "We gotta set up something, Angel. Any minute they're going to be- THERE SHE GOES!" 

Immediately, Angel dashed forward, managing to cut in front of Cordelia just as she was about to rush into the corridor. "Cordelia, NO. We need you here-" 

"GET OUT OF MY WAY, you un-dead, crazy, vampire!" Cordelia's eyes were round with panic, so frazzled from the events, and the high tension she was near hysterics. 

"Cordelia, I need you to-" 

"I'm serious, Angel, get out of my way. Throwing away an innocent woman's life was NOT part of the deal!" 

The fury in Cordelia's eyes was very, very real, a flash in the hazel that caused a boiling of blood. It was a danger signal, and Angel must have seen it. He gave her a slow, small nod, and the hands fell down. 

"She's not dead," he said. 

"How the hell can you promise me that?" she whispered. "Angel..." Her eyes closed, dangerously close to spilling with tears as she managed, "I dragged her into this, this is my fault..." 

"Cordelia..." 

Suddenly, she was buried in his arms, closing her eyes as she held him tightly, the sword she was carrying clanging against the stone wall as she returned his desperate embrace. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't damned fair- 

"WOAHAHAHAHHAHAH!" 

She jumped, pushing away from Angel as she whirled, just in time to yelp when a figure launched into the room, crashing into the table and landing a heap on the floor. 

"Lindsey?!" 

Lindsey looked a little bloody, a lot tired, but oddly happy as he stumbled to his feet, hands flailing wildly when Wesley and Faith came up to support him. 

"Wow," he said, voice husky with loss of breath. "That was unreal." 

"Lindsey," Angel barked. "What happened." 

"Oh, they're after me. I managed to lose them, but they're right on top of me." 

Cordelia's mind immediately snapped into place, sharing a look with Angel before she glanced at the open door. "We have to take them," she told him. "Hold them off until we can get them out of here." 

"Get Bethany out of that desk. Hurry." Pushing up the roll away up, Angel grabbed Bethany by the shoulders, and deposited the dazed girl neatly into Lindsey's arms. 

Cordelia struggled for breath, the anticipating causing a lump in a throat that was mingled with fear. With a rush of air pushed out of her mouth, she found another portal, and quickly unlocked it, revealing a dark passage. When she turned, she found Faith and Wesley staring. There was no pride, or anger, or smirks, or masks. Instead, there was a uniform expression, that of a warrior. Of a Champion, each holding onto their own lost soul. They would gladly give their lives for something as simple as this. 

The realization twisted into her soul. 

"Take them," she ordered. "Through the portal and hide. If they come after them, guard them with everything you have. We'll figure this out." 

"Better, Cor," Faith said, already moving as she pushed Bethany and Lindsey with her. "Not lookin' to die tonight." 

"Yeah, me either," she muttered back. The portal closed after them, and suddenly they were alone, in the Pressroom, which had somehow become stifling hot in the midst of all of this. 

"We've been through worse than this." The line was hopeful, encouraging, and so ANGEL, and so NOT Angel that it made her smile, glance at him with a twisted emotion she for once, didn't fight. She needed it, just then. 

"It's always about desks," she whispered. All it took was one sentence, and they both remembered. A desk, laughter, and love. 

The demons came in the middle of the glance, bursting the dream and letting reality settle in. 

"WHERE is he?!" Miller breathed, limping as he brandished a club, seething smoke as he glared wildly around the room. 

"Not here, obviously," Cordelia snapped, moving around the group of panting Champions, smiling tightly. "Not very good at your job, are you?" 

"Cordelia! Where the hell are they?" 

"If I knew, you think I'd be standing here?!" she barked. "Keep looking, boys." 

"She's lying," Bugsy glared. "She knows where they are." 

"Leave her the hell alone, you overgrown mosquito." Angel's words were said in the tone of a vampire, with a growling hostility, and a threatening glower. 

"Angel," Miller stood straight and tall, for once, trying to keep his head. "You know we're all on the same side here. We're just doing our job." 

"And I'm just doing mine," Angel responded. "With my mission. My job. My seer. My prerogative." 

"Our mission, too. Our bosses." 

"Keep looking," Angel ground out, keeping Cordelia behind him as he focused on Miller, dark eyes sending a scathing glare. "You got nothing." 

The tension was palatable, but Angel was right, and Miller knew it. It took a second for him to back off, motion with a jerk of his head back to where they came from. 

"Let's go, double back." 

Cordelia held her breath, waiting with her shuddering heart for the moment where she could slump against Angel in relief, bring Faith and Wes and Gunn and Fred back and get the hell outta there. 

And it was almost there, she could feel it, as one by one, the Champions stepped into the portal, fully prepared to continue their chase. 

And then Mrs. Sanderson walked into the room. 

"THERE!" She barked. The woman looked a mess. Hair was now messily piled on top of her head, there were ashes on her cheek and smudges of dirt around her ruined stockings, and yet she still managed to retain her characteristic haughtiness as she pointed triumphantly at Angel and Cordelia. "They had her in the desk! I saw them!" 

The relief that never came was now coupled with unwound tension that nearly made her explode when Skip and Lilah walked through the portal. One by one, the Champions turned back. 

All eyes were on her and Angel now, the two champions surrounded by their colleagues and their enemies as Skip came forward, the low scowl on his face never so real. 

"You hid her. Deliberately." 

Angel smiled. A smirk eerily reminiscent of Angelus graced his features, arms crossed as he stepped forward, facing Skip head on. "Prove it." 

"I saw them!" Mrs. Sanderson screeched. "She and that vampire! They held her in that desk!" 

"Cordelia..." Skip's head was tilted. "You've been playing a very dangerous game." 

There he stood, her demon guide, soulless and evil, and entirely right. 

"Yeah," she agreed softly. "I have. But at least this time I'm ready to follow through." 

"Check the desk," Miller ordered, pointing a long finger nail at both the vampire and the Seer. "You two better stay where you are." 

"DAD! I didn't kill them, but they're all knocked out and-" Connor paused, skidding to a stop as he suddenly blinked, taking in the taller demons that surrounded his father and Cordelia. "What's going on?" 

"Typical climatic confrontation," Cordelia responded, the look of fear on Connor's face, not for his own safety, but for theirs, suddenly so heartwrenching that she felt the immediate urge to remove it. So she smiled, the grin she used to give him that would make him smile back, and winked. "We've been through worse." 

"Have you met my kid, guys?" Angel asked. "The Destroyer?" 

"If the kid knows what's good for his father, he'll stay where he is," Skip ordered. "Check the desk." 

Cordelia felt her breath catch, deliberately keeping her body closer to Angel. Her body heat was rising, a dead give-away to the animalistic senses of the Champions around them. Angel's body temperature was cooler, and she needed it. 

She waited, the room silent as the champions moved carefully to the desk, every so slowly, weapons carefully tilted toward the desk. 

Not a word was said when the desk was lifted, until they saw who fell out. 

"MARKSY!?" 

The groggy bug-like demon gave everyone a blinking glance, trying to keep everyone in focus. 

The moment the attention was off them, Angel moved. Launching over a chair, Angel swiped his sword, and kicked it up, sending it in a spinning arc to Cordelia before sweeping up an axe. 

With a twist and a lean, Cordelia caught it, swinging the blade in a wide arc, flashing in the flickering lamps before it landed on Lilah's neck. 

"Okay," she said, voice cracking slightly as she kept the blade even, the entire room now at a stand still as more than ten Champions stood in the room against just her, Angel, and Connor. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." 

"Cordelia," Skip's voice was almost apologetic. "I don't want to kill you. Just give us the girl, and-" 

"And what?" she said. "Kill her? Damn her? The way I damned him?! No, Skip. NO. I'd rather die than do that again." 

"You just might." 

"You touch her, Skip," Angel interjected softly, stock still in the middle of the room, carefully keeping his gaze on Miller, the demon closest to him, club ready to move. "I'll kill you." 

Lilah took an unsteady breath, valiantly trying to remain still while the sword remained on her skin. Mrs. Sanderson continued to watch wide-eyed, slumped in the chair, panic written clearly on her face. 

"Angel. You're dead already. You have nothing left." Skip crossed his arms, narrowing his arms. "Cordelia, one more chance." 

"You don't get any more chances," she whispered, hazel eyes dark and flashing. "I'm done listening to you, Skip. I'm doing listening to any choices, or any tests, and I'm not going to damn her. Not like this." 

"Then we'll kill you." 

"Then you'll die," she responded stiffly. 

"Cordelia," Angel began uneasily. 

"Angel? I already told them. They could do this the easy way, or the hard way." 

When a Champion broke and dove for Cordelia, she wasn't wholly unprepared, but she wasn't ready to take it, either. He jerked forward with a growl and a flash of his tail, and Cordelia couldn't quite turn fast enough, the cry coming from Angel barely out of his mouth when suddenly Al was jerked back and flung against the wall by some unseen force. 

The desk rattled, wind flowed, and suddenly there stood Bethany, eyes blazing with determination and anger. 

"All right. We're going to make this simple," she began stiffly, pushing away from Lindsey as the lawyer tried to hold her back, moving past Faith and Wesley, who each stepped into the room with their respective weapons, pure fury on their faces. "I don't want to die, but I'm not letting them die for me. So, I figure, you guys can all die instead-" 

"NO ONE has to die," Cordelia barked. "NO ONE. Just let her go, Skip, until we can face the trial. That's all I'm asking for." 

"You don't ask for these things, Cordelia," Skip said angrily. "And you know why." 

Cordelia closed her eyes, and took a long, unsteady breath. When her eyes opened, she flashed a smile. "Fine. The hard way. Mrs. Sanderson? Watch your head." 

The sidekick caught Lilah in the face, bringing the lawyer down as the blade twirled almost too quickly to be seen. 

Skip caught the arc with a clang. "You sure you want to do this? Go against the Powers, against the mission, against all you believed in, to save one girl?" 

She smiled. "This is what I believe in. I light up like a Christmas tree just thinking about it." 

The light jolted from her hand, searing as it caught Skip, and sent him flying back with a grunt against the wall. 

That's what started it, and suddenly Champion caught against Champion, the room erupting in a full out brawl- 

All for one little soul. 

And this time, Cordelia wasn't quite sure if it was hers or Bethany's they were fighting for. 

-- 

**END CHAPTER**   



	15. Chapter Fifteen

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**__

_"It's over. Things are back to the way they should be and nothing's ever going to break us apart again. And if anything tries, I'm going to have to go all glowy, and personally kick its ass."_   
Hallucination Cordy, Deep Down   
-- 

The small room was very quickly, very efficiently being torn to shreds. 

Wesley, as usual, fought with power and finesse, a half smile on his face as he ducked and parried, using his enemies strengths against them. With a small fencing sword, he danced around the demons, eerily reminding Cordelia of Wesley in the Princess Bride with his taunts and small bursts of laughter as he rolled under another Champion, who could have easily been Andre the Giant. 

His significant other, however, was no Buttercup. Faith had absolutely no problem getting down and dirty with her fists. Her hair flew around her, as if it had a life of its own, and her smile was wide and painful, rolling under the two coming after her with all the grace of a street fighter. Her face was scratched, she was bleeding, but ever the cheerful healer, Faith only took one swipe at the cut, studying the blood on her fingers, before catching Al in turn with a sidekick that cracked across his face and sent him halfway across the room, forcing Connor's charge, the ever flexible Marj, to double over to avoid the contact. 

Lilah Morgan was doing her best to glower at the scene and avoid getting caught at the same time, but even she didn't get far, because a now smirking Bethany shook an arm out just as she reached the door, and pulled back, swinging her with her invisible tractor beam directly in front of Faith. 

The dazed lawyer didn't even have a moment to say a word before Faith stared, grinned and slammed a fist into her face. 

"Cordelia?!" Angel's voice was worried, and with good reason. It had been a while since she had done this. 

"Just fine," she answered. She must have looked quite the sight, what with the heels and the skirt, and the sword that kept slipping on Skip's natural armor. Throughout the fight, Cordelia's own quarrel remained with her demon guide, and despite the demon's much larger size, she kept her ground covered, managing to twist in moves she had thought she had long forgotten. 

"Violence isn't you, Cordelia," he said, mouth set in a grim line as he fought defensively. She noted that, found that weird, that he never attacked, never set out to thrust toward her, almost as if he didn't want to hurt her. 

"Are you turning soft on me, Skip?" she bit, ducking under, and allowing just a moment to find Angel and Connor, father and son fighting side by side, before yanking her blade up and catching his with a clash of sparks and metal. "I thought you said there was no room for emotions in this game." 

"There isn't. Not in mine." He advanced harder now, a split second move that caught her off guard. In a second she landed hard on the dirt floor, dazed and out of breath. Mind reeling, she managed to catch her senses as the blade arched down. With a yelp, she rolled away, watched as the blade slammed into the dirt she had just occupied. 

"Then why are you so intent on bringing down Angel?" she asked flatly, sweaty now as she circled him, eyes dark and glowering. "You've always hated him. Isn't that emotion?" 

"How I feel about him has nothing to do with my mission, or about you, Cordelia," he answered. "Face it, Light Bright. The only one here who's never been able to get away from him, is you." 

She flashed him a quick smile, patronizing and almost angry. "You think I can't get away from him?" 

"I think you can't get away from him, Trinity." 

"Trinity was a wuss," Cordelia tossed back, shoulders pushing back, the short exclamation suddenly making her pause, consider. "But then again, that's what you always thought of me, didn't you? Weak and spineless for my ties on earth? Oh, the big bad Higher Beings could never know something like love, could never tie themselves to such a damning thing because heaven forbid they care about something other than their own asses! Their own prophecies and idiotic trials!" 

"If you think that's what they're about, then you never really knew them, Cordelia." 

"Maybe you never gave me a chance to." 

Pausing in the sword play, Skip tilted his head, suddenly scrutinizing as he regarded her. "Tell me, something, Cordelia. You ever really felt the Powers? Ever think that you had a choice in all of this?" 

"In between every single damned test, and cutting me off from everything I loved, I stopped trying," she remarked flatly. "You know me, Skip. Undisciplined, jaded, and bitter and angry." With a swing, and a twist of her torso, suddenly palming his wrist with her own glowy charge, until the shock of it sent him slamming against the rocks, dark head cracking against the stone. 

"So what do you think now?" he asked. "You managed to get out, think a little bit. You came back despite everything, threw away everything you thought meant something for one little soul. Just one, when before, you dropped seven without even looking back. Tell me, what's your mission, Cordelia? Your little character of witness, your little charade." He blocked her blow, and with a hiss, she found her arm wrenched up, nearly torn out of her socket as he breathed his sulphuric breath into her ear, pinning her against him. "This your mission, Cordelia?" 

"What's yours, Skip?" 

"To get back what belongs to the Powers," he answered stiffly. 

The dry laughter fell on deaf ears, as Cordelia managed through the pain, "Is this what they want?" 

"They might want it." 

"How do you know?" 

"I don't. I only know what I feel." 

With a move that nearly caused her to scream in pain, Cordelia jerked up, swung over, and nearly flipped her legs across her body, using the momentum to bring him to his knees, glowing palm now connecting to his face, eyes glittering with anger. "And what do you feel, Skip?" 

"Would you kill me, Cordelia?" Skip asked. 

"No," she whispered. "But I'd make it hurt like hell." 

Around them, weapons clashed and demons howled. She smelled blood, and she knew he could sense the fear in the chaos surrounding, all for the sacred purity of the mission, the boiling point that brought both demon guide and higher being to this point, at a stand still, her hand boiling against his skin, causing what she knew had to pure, unfiltered agony. 

"Fine, Skip," she whispered, chest rising and falling in uneven attempt to catch her breath as she held him this way. Angel's family was lost in the battle behind her, and she paid no attention to anyone but this demon, this one who had transformed her and changed her and forced her to choose so many times. "You know what my mission is? What I truly believe in? The Powers are screwed. You can't be a champion without love, there are no higher beings in us down here, no matter how powerful we get, or how honored, and there are no more real tests than the ones we make ourselves. I may have passed your tests, Skip, but I failed mine. I abandoned the man I swore to be with as long as it took because of my damned calling, I damned a man who should have been given a choice because I made one, and I made all of that, alone. THAT was my downfall, Skip. The good guys, what people you see in here, they think with their hearts, because it doesn't matter where they come from, or what they've done, but what they feel. As long as they FEEL they have a chance to save someone, anyone, just a little bit from that heartbreak and aching that they feel, they'll do it. They'll die for it." Straightening up, she lifted the palm from his cheek, heard him take in a shaky gasp in response. Her own voice was soft, barely heard about the racket at the noise, but it didn't matter, she really only spoke for herself. "It's worth it, Skip, in the end, because you're never really alone. And in this game, that's all that matters. The truth is, Skip, alone, you're nothing." 

"STOP THE FIGHT! STOP IT!" 

Whipping her head around, Cordelia lost her focus when someone that looked like a sweaty, panicked version of Fred stepped into the room. Tumbling forward, Winnifred took in the scene, gave a small gasp and a muttered 'oh dear', motioning quickly. 

"STOP it," Fred said again, this time to Angel and Cordelia, eyes darting between the pair. 

"Ya'll better do it," Charles Gunn shouted, his glare for the demon quotient of the room, half bending with the weight of the guy covered in glitter, arm slung over his shoulder. "If you know what's good for you. You know who this guy is, don't you?" 

Slowly, every figure in the room watched as the oracle was dropped on the floor, blinking with confusion as he took in the state of the Pressroom. 

"Wow," he said. "I was out for a while." 

"It's okay, guys," Skip said, breathing heavily, taking in a huge, gasping gulps of air. The demon looked worn out, hands on his knees as he tried to get his bearing thanks to Cordelia's glowy torture. "Drop the weapons. It's over." 

Miller, hand still in mid-air, wore features laced with confusion, head tilting from a still fisted Angel back to Skip. "But-" 

"I said it's over," Skip snapped, scales glistening in the light as he once again looked toward Cordelia. "It's over." With one long arm, he shoved Marj to the side, skittered past Faith and then stopped in front of the Oracle. "You okay?" 

"I could use a bleaming pint!" The Oracle rubbed his chin ruefully. "Never said it was gonna HURT, man!" 

"Sorry." Punching at his shoulder, Skip grinned. "You're a champ, Doyle." 

It took a couple seconds of bewildered confusion for Cordelia to get it. To really get it. Suddenly, her mind skipped, and her heart jumped, and her gaze locked with Angel, stunned silent. 

"DOYLE?!" 

The oracle paused in his task, white robe splotched with blue and gold paint as he rubbed at his face, suddenly lighting up in a beautifully familiar smile as he caught eyes with his princess. "Hey, there, beautiful!" 

Her heart jolted, and suddenly she raced forward, throwing her arms around the little Irish man as he chuckled and hugged her back. "Look at ya," he chortled. "You're like... deep and everything." 

"Oh, my GOD, shut up!" she whispered, suddenly overwhelmed with tears as Angel gently pushed her to the side, getting his own hug from their lost companion. "What are you DOING here?!" 

"What, you think my sacrificing anything would make it all stop?" Doyle grinned. "I got promoted! Though, the pay sucks, and I gotta wear this blasted paint, and act like a sap." The Irish tilt was still present, as he winked. "Not exactly up there with higher beings like, you, but... ya know... I got my own niche." 

"Doyle..." Even Angel was caught offguard. The vampire found himself frozen to the floor, mouth opening and closing as he tried to catch his emotions at seeing his old friend, and comprehend what it all meant. "Wait a... what are you- I'm confused." 

"Dad?" Connor's glower was nothing short of scary, the Destroyer now standing directly behind him. "We're not killing them?" 

"I'm not sure..." 

Cordelia, Doyle's hands still locked around her waist, caught Angel's eyes, and found herself turning to study the room, confusion suddenly overwhelming every other emotion. There was Faith and Wesley, the ex-Watcher breathing heavily, the Slayer still holding Marksy by the scruff of his neck. Under the desk, Mrs. Sanderson blinked, for once at a loss of words, holding a sword in her shaky palms to ward off any of the attack. Bethany had Lindsey in her arms, the lawyer clearly injured, holding his evil hand to him as he bled just a little. Every champion watched the reunion, and even Lilah Morgan, holding a hand up to a bruising eye, had a bewildered expression in her pretty face. 

And Skip, the bastard, was smiling. 

"WHAT'S going ON?!" she burst, pushing out of Doyle's embrace, and whirling to face him. 

"You passed, sweetie." 

Cordelia stared blankly. "Passed what?" 

"Your test," Doyle spoke up behind her, Irish accent thick and cheery. "Took you long enough, darlin'. I was startin' to think they were right about you." 

Catching Angel's glance, she shrugged, once again completely bewildered. "What are you talking about?!" 

"It's simple, Cordelia," Skip said, proud face beaming. "The Powers led you back to town to try you one last time. You quit, and it was a good thing, but they really wanted to make sure you were truly ready. Whether or not you were really ready to sacrifice everything for the mission, what you believe in. Saving Bethany was as good a way as any." 

"You set this up?" Angel asked, voice low, and more than a little angry. 

"No. This was real. Cordelia's play in all of this was unforeseen, but upon her entrance, the rules changed." Skip smiled grimly, crossing his arms. "You found your mission, Cordelia. Your true calling, after all these years." 

"You're beautiful, darlin'," Doyle popped up, voice warm with amusement. "But you've got a hell of an ego. You failed your first two tests, when you decided you had the right to judge a human, and call yourself a higher being." 

"I FAILED?!" Cordelia blinked. "What do you mean I failed?! You never said I failed?! You LET me go up there, and you LET me –" 

"The Powers don't want trained monkeys, Cordelia," Skip said, motioning across the room. "We've got enough of those." 

"HEY!" 

"Shut up, Miller," he replied, keeping his eyes on Cordelia. "We need people with souls, Cordelia. A person who believes that above all, what this world should be is what it needs to be. There's no room for higher beings, no room for anything but the sacrifice of love. A person needs to be connected to the world, follow their emotions and instincts, and with blind faith? How can they do that? You questioned the Powers, Cordelia, but you always obeyed. That was your failing." 

"You LET ME LEAVE?!" Cordelia apparently was a one idea woman. "YOU JUST LET ME!?" 

"I'm just a guide, Cordelia. I'm not your boss, or your leader. It's always your choice. That's the whole point of being a champion. Trained monkeys who stopped caring, they won't understand." He grinned. "It took you a long way, but I knew you'd figure it out." 

He punched her playfully in the shoulder, affectionate and teasing. Cordelia responded by cracking her fist across his face. 

"YOU LET ME LEAVE?! YOU LET ME THINK THAT I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE?!" 

Faith and Angel both lunged, keeping the scrambling and pissed off Seer from getting at Skip. 

"Told you she was going to be pissed when she found out, man," Doyle said, whistling admiringly. 

The demon guide blinked, "Well... okay, then. We'll talk when you're a little calmer. You're free to go, all of you. And you, Bethany." His gaze hardened, his voice was scratchy, rough, and angry. "You're free too. The Powers have granted your freedom pending the character of witness." 

"Just like that?" Bethany asked. 

"WOAH, WOAH!" Lilah Morgan, hand still over her eye, waved her arms emphatically. "I don't think so. There's still a matter of Wolfram and Harts interest in this whole thing-" 

And when every Champion in the room turned to glare at her, Lilah Morgan realized she probably shouldn't have spoke up at all. "But we'll let it go..." 

Skip rolled his eyes, a testament to his irritation. "You came back," he said to Bethany. "You came back at the risk of your own soul to save the lives of others. There may be hope for you yet." He motioned to Angel. "Bethany, consider Angel and his family your probation officers. Stay closest to them, keep control of yourself, you should be fine. You lose it, we'll come after you." Skip took in a breath, looking around the Pressroom. "Let's go, guys." 

"You know, you are SUCH a Powers' Pet," Miller grumbled, moving past Cordelia. "See you later, Light Bright." 

"Told you the marriage wouldn't last," Marksy said, pushing off Faith's hand. "Didn't even make it to the altar." 

"I... Good God... I..." Mrs. Sanderson blinked stupidly. 

"Wait, wait..." Cordelia stopped Doyle's exit with a hand on his shoulder, suddenly too overwhelmed to think properly, latching on to one damning thought. "You're saying... I have to work the mission again?" 

Doyle paused, scrutinizing in his study of her, and the half-demon slash Oracle finally broke into a charming grin. "Darlin', haven't you been listening? It's your choice. All they wanted was to make sure you graduated. The choice, that's up to you. You always have a choice. That's the whole point." Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her cheek, leaving a smudge of blue and gold paint. "Love you." 

She blinked, standing perfectly still as the other dimension's champions filed out of the room, each in turning muttering their good-bye's as they limped. 

"I can't believe he let us get our asses beat for nothing," Miller groused. 

Doyle snorted. "Did you just hear me? You always have a choic-" 

"SHUT UP, DOYLE!" 

"I can't believe this." Lilah Morgan pushed files and papers into her briefcase, a murderous look on her face as she strode to the doorway. "The Senior Partners are going to be PISSED, thank you VERY much." 

"Lovely to see you again, Lilah." 

"BITE ME, Wesley." 

She didn't resist flicking her old lover off before she exited. Faith gave a low whistle. "Shit. Now I almost like her." 

"I... my... that was... did you see- I can't..." 

Fred, who at the moment was in the process of wringing her hands at the glazed look on Cordelia's frozen features, finally took pity on the blubbering Mrs. Sanderson. Kneeling down, she peeked under the desk and offered a smile. "Why don't we get you out of here." 

"I... did you see- with the... and the... oh my... and the-" 

"Yes, I know. Pretty amazing violence," Fred agreed, gently pulling the lady out from under the desk. "Charles?" 

"What?" Her boyfriend stood blankly, holding onto his trusty axe. 

She gave him a pointed look. "Let's get Mrs. Sanderson home." 

"Take Bethany and Lindsey while you're at it," Angel said, nodding toward the couple in the corner. "Drop them off at the hotel, I'll be there as soon as I can." 

"Why do WE have to do it?" Charles groused, moving forward obediently. "Takin' care of the crazy old lady, and following it up with evil Lawyer Boy? I tell you, Fred. We're getting the short end of the stick like nobody's business." 

"He always this much fun?" Bethany asked, helping Lindsey toward the door. 

"Funner," Fred smiled, keeping her hold on the still stammering Mrs. Sanderson. "Relax, Charles. I'll make it up to you." 

"Next time we're the ones that stay and fight. You hear me?! It's OUR TURN!" 

Dazed emotion scuttled through Cordelia's brain. Suddenly light-headed, she walked the room, glancing over the desk and the scattered weapons, eyes falling on her tattered remains of a jacket, the laptop sitting undisturbed on the overturned table. Reaching up slowly, she tenderly felt the bruised area on her cheek, hissed in pain. 

It had really happened. In here. Her heart was beating wildly, and in the dizzying torrent of events that settled in the dust of this hell dimension, she laughed shakily. 

"What is it?" Angel remarked. 

"Do you remember?" she almost whispered. "The time we got stuck with the Sluks in the hotel, and I lit up like crazy, freaked out as hell because of it?" 

"We almost died," Angel remarked, arms crossed as he regarded her, a slight smile forming on his lips. 

"Yeah..." she smiled again, eyes on some distant part of the room, lost in her memories, adrenaline pumping into her veins. "God." 

Angel came forward, patted gently at her shoulder. "Cordelia?" 

She looked back to him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Yeah?" 

"You better hurry if you're going to catch up." 

The smile froze, and Cordelia blinked, heart suddenly caught in her throat. "What?" 

"Douglas." 

Douglas. Cordelia blinked, suddenly unsure, unable to breathe as she twisted in her seat, found Angel dismissing her as he crossed his arms, spoke in low voices to Faith and Wesley, some mission or other that she knew nothing about. 

Her throat was oddly dry. Swallowing in an attempt to remove the lump that made it almost impossible to speak, she tried to speak. "But... he's gone. He took the flight." 

Angel paused, turning back, almost as if he was surprised to discover she was still there. "You know very well he won't leave without dear old Mother, Cordelia." 

"You wanna bet on that?" she snapped. 

"Cordelia, it's late. You better go." 

There was a distance in his words, a callous betrayal that she wasn't quite ready to face. "But... Angel- I don't... I mean... with what happened- How can you just-" 

Her vampire ex-husband, with his large hands and beautifully brown eyes, once again turned back to her. She felt lost, standing next to a tattered desk in a tattered pressroom with her tattered heart. She wondered if he saw it, because his face softened. Stepping forward, he once again rested his palms on her shoulders, squeezing Cordelia. 

"Cordelia, I'm trying to be noble here, okay? I'm letting you go, just like you asked me to. Can't you understand that?" 

"Angel, but you have-" 

"Just call him. He loves you. He'll take you back, Cordelia." 

"But what about Bethany and the character of witn-" 

"Faith'll write it." 

"FAITH?!" 

"Damn, 'C. Don't sound so damned surprised," Faith said easily. "I know my way around a few sentences. Won't be as good as yours, but damned good enough." She slapped Wesley's butt, making the Englishman yelp. "He'll help." 

"Angel-" 

"Cordelia." Angel's thumb now caressed her cheek, a shiver of a jolt coursing through her at the impossible warmth in his brown eyes, the depth of his emotion as he smiled, an oh so small smile that made her suddenly remember why she had loved him. "What Douglas is offering, maybe that's what you need. I'm not putting you through that, again, Cordelia. You deserve a normal life. That's what you wanted, isn't it?" 

She blinked, and suddenly, her frazzled mind couldn't take it. "I GET IT. I get it!" She pushed away from him, hands on her hips in a sudden glare. "I know what you're doing! You're trying to get me to stay by trying to get me to leave!" 

"Huh?" 

"That's IT, isn't it?!" 

"Cordelia-" 

"HA! That's it! You think that by making me go, that you're going to make me stay, and you're using all this psychological mumbo-jumbo to make me think you want me to go, when you really want me to stay-" 

"Kay, I'm officially lost," Faith offered, settling into the wooden chair as she watched the scene. 

"Cordy-" 

"And you're just-" 

"HEY!" Once again, Angel had her in his arms. "Calm down-" 

"BUT-" 

"You're screeching!" Stopping her words with a palm on her mouth, he gave a shaky laugh, eyes suddenly blinking with moisture. "Okay, I had that coming, all right? I'm serious. All right? This whole... thing at the end... What the Powers put you through... I know why you left, and... don't get me wrong, okay? It's killing me to let you go, but... there's a whole new world that you've never seen, because of me. Because of this... and... Look, I made fun of all of that, okay? Of Douglas and Maine and the stupid life insurance thing, you know why?" 

"No," she answered, voice oddly uneven. "Why?" 

The sheepish grin was almost a direct contradiction to his normally broody expression. "I was jealous. That you wanted anything that I couldn't give you. I've tried so long to believe that I was enough, but I'm not. It's your choice, and... you chose what you want." 

"Angel-" 

And suddenly his lips were on hers, gentle and sweet, and beautiful. Her eyes closed involuntarily, swept into his arms, and into his heart as he slid his lips hotly over hers, jerking her heart, and sealing her fate. 

And suddenly, he pulled back. Cordelia's eyes fluttered open to find him clapping her companionably on the shoulders, and pushing her on her way. "Good luck, Cordelia." His back was turned toward her as he moved back to Faith and Wesley. "Okay, the motorcycle gang on 3rd and Beverly." 

"They back at it?" 

"According to Kate, they are." 

"Then we didn't do it right the first time." 

"Well, let's head back to the hotel, take care of Bethany and... Lindsey, I guess, and we'll work on a game plan." 

"I still have the bike Wes gave me. You think they'd recognize you if you did a little infilt-" 

She wasn't a part of this anymore. The proof was there, in living color, as her three old friends continued to talk, continued the mission, without her. 

With a shaking numbness, Cordelia turned, movements hazy as she slowly gathered her purse, cellphone clutched to one hand, and sunglasses in the other. 

"Maybe a gang bang is what we need. We have the man power." 

"Don't you think a little finesse is required-" 

"You and your damned finesse, Wesley. Get over it. Even Connor could take them out-" 

"Where IS Connor?" 

The side of her face hurt, and she still tasted a little blood on her lips, mixed in with the unmistakable taste of Angel. 

She was getting out of this, and that was a good thing. Of course, Douglas would forgive her, and all she really needed was a chance to clear her head, get away from this damned Pressroom, and away from them, remember that it was what she wanted. Her closure. Her choice. 

"We're still getting the commission from the Police on the black market jobs, right?" 

"If Kate keeps her word." 

She blinked, steps suddenly faltering at the doorway. Her legs wouldn't move. Everything was so heavy, the ruined jacket, the cellphone, the phone. The heels that dug into the ground. 

This was Cordelia Chase. Leaving. 

Oh, HELL NO. 

"No," she breathed. "No, way. NO." Whirling, she dropped her jacket, glare icy and cold as she stared down the three members of Angel Investigations. "NO. No. NO." 

"Uh... Cordy-" 

"SHUT UP," she snapped, suddenly shaking with the anger flooding through her. "You're not getting rid of me that easy. You're not!" 

"Cordelia-" 

"NO! You need me, all right?" They all gave her blank stares. "YOU DO!" Stamping her foot, she continued her tirade, pointing a finger into Angel's chest as she strode down the steps. "You're NOT going to put me through all that shit, and then kick me out. I'm not going anywhere, and you can't make me leave, because you NEED ME, dammit! I'm staying, and there's not a damned thing you can do about-" 

"Cordy-" 

"SHUT UP! I'm tired of everyone telling me I have to make choices, and then never letting me MAKE THEM! I'm making up my damned mind, and you guys are going to LET ME, JUST THIS DAMNED ONCE!" The cell phone rang, jumping with vibration in her hand. Growling at the intrusion, she flipped it open, answering with a strangled, "WHAT?!" 

"CORDELIA?!" 

Huh? "Douglas?" 

"What the hell kind of money did you give me?!" 

"What are you talking about?!" 

"I'm at the 4th Precinct Police Station, having just been arrested for having COUNTERFEIT MONEY!" 

"Counter..." trailing off, Cordelia turned, found one Slayer smirking, one British Guy looking almost guilty, and one vampire scratching at his head trying to look anywhere in the room but her. 

"CORDELIA?!" 

She blinked, staring down at the receiver, and suddenly her heart jumped, and she gasped openly for breath, realization of what that meant flooding through her. 

Oh, God... oh, God... Oh, God... 

Her knees gave out from under her, and with no pride left in her, Cordelia slumped onto the desk, buried her head into her arms, and began to cry. 

"What the fuck?" 

"Cordelia?" 

Shaking with uncontrollable sobs, Cordelia's heart ached, coursing through every emotion that had flooded her recently, tired body suddenly unable to take it all. Oh, God. Oh, God... Oh, God. 

"Cordelia?!" Soft hands covered her hair, stroking quickly, gently. "What's..." 

Standing up suddenly, she smacked Angel in the arm. "Oh, GOD," she managed. "I hate you guys. I hate you guys so much..." Sniffling in, she grabbed his sleeve, hiccupping as she wiped her still shedding tears. 

"Uh... Cordy?" 

"I thought you were really sending me away! I didn't know you guys had screwed him again..." She glared up at him, voice suddenly tiny and meek. "I thought you were actually being noble. That you were just going to be all self-sacrificing and.... ANGEL and let me leave without doing anything about it!" 

Angel stared blankly, processing her words. "Cordelia," he said matter-of-factly. "What do you think I am? An idiot? I'm never doing that again!" 

With a strangled laugh, and the unmistakable urge to choke her vampire husband, Cordelia threw herself into his arms, wrapping herself into his embrace. "YOU BASTARD!" He held her close, all of him, with his beautiful big arms, and his wonderfully strong embrace, and that damned chuckle on the end of his voice as his lips brushed against her brow. "I thought you didn't LOVE ME!" she wailed. 

"Cordelia, if you thought that shit, you're dumber than I thought." And suddenly, there was Faith, DAMNED HO FAITH, with her slutty smile and her slutty clothes, and her crossed arms. 

Faith's self assured smirk quickly turned into one of panic when Cordelia launched towards her, arms gathering the Slayer in a huge embrace. "I HATE YOU," she managed. "I hate you, Faith." 

The brunette ex-con stood frozen for exactly half a second, wild eyes searching for Wesley or Angel to tell her what to do with an armful of blubbering Seer. "All right, all right," she finally managed. "I hate you, too. Geez, Cordelia. You're damned dense when you want to be. For second there I thought I'd have to plant a damned bomb in the airport!" 

Cordelia kissed her on the lips, shutting her up. Soundly. 

Faith was still blinking when Cordelia smacked Wesley, and then hugged him fiercely, sucking in her breath. 

"Well..." she managed. "What are you guys waiting for? We have to get him out of jail. Give him his real money, and send him back to Maine where he belongs. Oh, and by the way? Connor followed the demons into the portal. He's probably going to try and kill them or something. Skip will send him back, eventually." 

"Did she just fucking kiss me?!" 

"I rather enjoyed it myself." 

"Shut the fuck up, Wesley." 

Cordelia sniffled, her throat aching, but suddenly deliriously relieved, happy, and scared. When Angel's glance caught hers, she managed a smile, only for him, always for him. 

He grinned back, nodding slightly. "Faith. Wes. Get out of here. Cordy and I will finish up in here. Right after we grab Connor, and get that damned divorce annulled." 

"Angel, you can't really annul a divorce." 

"Are you going to get technical with me?" Angel asked, picking up an axe, throwing it back to the weapons closet. 

Cordelia grinned, shaking her head, turning to follow Wesley and Faith- 

_Simple darkness permeated the room, and there was fear, torture, blood. Pentagrams marked the location, and all around her there was screams, agony- marked into the face of the children as they scrambled in the well, awaiting their sacrifice-_

"Wait." Cordelia paused, hand on Angel's arms as she slowed, pushing out a breath. 

Immediately, Angel's expression was back to his most beautiful. Concentrated, focused, eyes narrowing as he waited. 

"Figueroa and 4th," she said, motioning for Wesley and Faith to come forward when the pair stood waiting at the entrance. "Children are going to get sacrificed if we don't hurry." 

"Fucking heavy," Faith muttered, grabbing a dagger from the floor and heading toward the door with a flip of her hair. "I'll get the car." 

"Faith, if you bloody think I'm going to let you drive, you're entirely insane," Wesley said after her, shouldering his own saber. 

Cordelia took in a shaky breath, arms crossed, glancing one more time at the remains of the pressroom. "So this is my choice, huh? How do I know I'm going to regret this?" 

His arms slipped around her waist, and she smiled, leaning back in her husband's arms, allowing just one moment of warmth in his cool strength. "Cordelia?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Leave me again, I'll tie you to the damned bed." 

"No, Angel, if I recall, it was my turn." And with that, she kissed him, long and hard, and hungry and desperate. And it felt right. It felt good. And still, while his arms slipped around her, and while his kiss grew more passionate, more arousing, the thought pricked the back of her head. Pulling back, she smiled gently, tracing his lips with a soft finger. "Vision," she whispered. 

He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers, and took in a shaky, unneeded breath. 

Only then, Cordelia realized that her poor vampire was shaking. He was shaking so badly. 

"I love you, Cordelia," he whispered, eyes suddenly open, millimeters from hers, pure focus, determination, love. 

Her heart never felt so full, so ready to explode, so unable to contain the complete emotion she felt buried in his embrace. 

"Yeah," she said gruffly. "I know. I love you, too." 

One more kiss, lingering and gentle, and she stepped out of his arms. Picking up his favorite broadsword, she presented it to him with a flourish. 

"Come on, and remember, we still gotta go and get Douglas out." 

"I wonder if he'll let us out of the whole life insurance thing," Angel mused, jogging up the stairs as she followed. "We're a little on the broke side." 

Cordelia shot him an incredulous look. "You have no shame." 

"What, like shame is something to be proud of?" 

-- 

**FIN**   



End file.
